World of Warcraft - Light's Redemption
by ViMiLu
Summary: [Conclusion to The Templar Knights trilogy] The dawn of the final battle draws near. The Argent Crusade has gathered at the gates of Icecrown Citadel to strike at the heart of evil itself and leading the charge into the frozen halls are the Templar Knights. The Light has begged one of their finest champions in its hour of need. With renewed hope, Rayne Templar heeds its call.
1. Prologue

World of Warcraft – Light's Redemption

Book 3

By ViMiLu

 **Prologue:**

A crisp breeze blew through an open window. The golden rays of the sun peaked over the distant horizon. Tender bits of snow melted on edges of the tile roof and dripped into the small garden beneath it. The budding plants have survived the harsh elements and were at the cusp of blooming about to reveal the true beauty hidden within.

Winter was finally coming to an end. The harsh season took its toll on the world. It was kind to few and not so kind to most others. The stench of war wafted in the air along with the chilling wind of the elements. Thankfully, its pungent aroma was fading. It had been too long since Azeroth had breathed this calmly and was certainly well deserved. Countless sacrifices had been made in order to achieve this moment of peace. No one, not even the dead, could say that it wasn't worth it.

Children burst through the door. The poured inside the cottage after racing through the yard towards a lone wooden table near the kitchen. Eagerness filled their expressions as they furiously panted with tremendous desperation. They surrounded the furniture in a small arc nearly toppling over one another. Tiny bits of grass and dirt stained their clothes as they came to a complete halt upon the cold stone floor.

"We're ready!" They frantically cried in broken unison.

All of the children found places to sit and lay. They stared up at the benevolent Storyteller before them. Their eyes were encapsulated with vigor. Each of their minds had become a dry sponge excited to soak in the words that were to be imparted from the wise mouth they admired.

"Are you sure you are ready?"

The commanding voice of the Storyteller quaked in their young minds. Their resolve steeled as they stared intently back with curious eyes.

"Once I begin, you will never be able to unhear these words."

The sharpness of that statement cut through them like a gallant blade across the edge of an unworthy adversary.

"Each and every breath that leaves my body will become a part of your lives from here on out."

Although lighter than the previous declaration, the words continued to weigh heavily in the young minds of the children.

"They will be ingrained in your memories here and henceforth from this day, until the last day."

Every word pouring through the Storyteller's lips commanded their attention. Not a single child would dare look away nor would their curious minds allow them to.

A rush of silence filled the room. The cool air settled upon the children as their bodies slowly acclimated to the slow warming weather. They looked upon each other heeding the Storyteller's warning with patience and courage. Each of them were desperate to find the one unfit amongst them. After a few moments of searching, they steeled themselves and returned their gaze upwards.

"We're ready," a boy spoke.

He didn't flinch in his words or expression. The rest of the children shared his resolve.

"Please," a girl began. "Tell us the story."

"We want to hear it!" Pleaded another.

They were beginning to grow restless. Perhaps it was their youthful impatience that guided their actions but nevertheless, they had waited long enough. There were enough rumors going around nearby that fueled their inquisitiveness. It was better to quench their thirst with the truth than poison their minds with mere speculation.

"Very well," smiled the Storyteller.

A large tome was procured from the table. The hardened leather binds still retained the unique chill of the land where it was born. It may have been the newest book that resided on any shelf in their small library but the knowledge and history contained within were more powerful than any weapon within a thousand miles of this place.

This book was truly unique. There are none like it in the whole of Azeroth. It didn't contain instructions from devastating conjurations like the many lining the shelves of mages' homes or recipes for unique transmutations as the guides alchemists and herbalists pride themselves in collecting. Unlike those books, this one was prized by a select few and its value couldn't be measured even if a hundred men counted for thousands of years.

Laying within these fresh layers of parchment were the collective memories of some of the finest warriors, nobles, scholars, and champions of this world. Though their names may be unknown to most, they helped shaped these lands in ways most will never know. Every word bound within these pages carries with them the very essence of those that first shared them. They will be forever honored within the bindings of this incredible book.

The tome slowly opened. Rippling sounds of finely pressed paper sliced into the air. The eager children grew more excited with each passing second.

"Listen closely children," the Storyteller began.

They obeyed with great intensity. Not even the shifting of land or crumbling of mountains could break their concentration.

"I am about to regale you with a tale of great wealth and significance to our world."

Shivers poured along their small backs. All of the buildup throughout the passing days had made this moment certainly worth the wait.

The Storyteller's fingers carefully glided along the page watching as if the children were absorbing each and every word being written into their very soul.

"This chronicles some of the greatest champions to ever grace our world."

Smiles quickly lifted on the children's collective expressions. Hearing that term filled their hearts with a warm and powerful light.

"It is one of triumph, despair, and sacrifice."

A small crack bit at their young faces. Weather it was the sudden chill of the timely wind that passed by or the weight of the words they just heard falling over them was still yet to be determined.

"The heroes that remain will keep the memory of these events forever hearts, minds, and bodies."

That powerful statement resonated strongly within the children. Though they may be young and inexperienced, even they could empathize with the plights of those with the courage to stand and defend those that don't have the strength to do so themselves.

"And once this is over, you too will never forget the words you will hear on this day."

The Storyteller laid out one final warning. This wasn't done to scare them. It merely stressed the sheer power of the words locked within this tome.

"Their strength in the face of tremendous evil are ones to be admired and revered."

The warming tone lifted their spirits once more. The children inched closer hungry for what was to come next.

"Azeroth may never see this display of bravery ever again."

Those words carried with them a subtle tinge of sorrow. It was challenging for anyone to hold their composure given the tale that was about to relived once more. However, that proved to be insignificant compared to uttering the very next sentence that would be forever etched in their collective memories.

"For this is the last story of the Templar Knights."


	2. Chapter 1

_A Hero's Welcome_

 _Dalaran_

The chilling touch of cold porcelain graced the paladin's skin. Rayne Templar rested his heavy head atop the empty plate for the better part of half an hour. His mind was filled with countless thoughts of the previous events making it too heavy for his neck to bear its weight any longer. Not even the smell of succulent meats cooking in the kitchen behind the counter or the ripe plates of fruit passing by could sway his mood despite not putting down a decent meal in several days.

Dalaran was exceptionally busy today. It seemed as if all of its citizens and visitors decided to peruse the fine streets of this majestic city; not that the paladin would have known otherwise. He had been cooped up in his room since they had returned from Ulduar without making so much as a peep outside until today. In fact, Rayne hadn't even bothered to bathe once he doffed his armor. The sweat and stains of the previous battle still lingered on his weary body. Thankfully the delectable scents being poured from the back of the inn helped mask the growing odor.

The paladin would have much rather preferred keeping to himself for a while longer. However, it was at the very behest of the gnome sitting next to him that he agreed to come out today. Glimwack, or Weasel as he is affectionately known within the ranks of the Templar Knights, didn't seem to mind the stench or rather, was more preoccupied with the large coin purse before him. He had stopped by Rayne's room every day to check on him after they returned from the Titan-forged city. After a couple of days, the paladin felt obligated to tell him what happened outside of the entrance to Ulduar. Even after hearing all of that, the gnome didn't falter with his daily visits. He continued to do so every day since like clockwork. Rayne thought he knew everything there was about the former SI:7 assassin. However, Weasel's behavior always seemed to fluctuate when he truly cared about something, or in this case, someone.

It was because of this concern that Rayne agreed to his companion's request. The rest of the Templar Knights probably raised similar thoughts but may have been too busy with their own work and recuperation from the dreaded assault on the Old God's prison. Weasel had asked the others to accompany them today for a meal to catch up and discuss their next plans. Just because the paladin's personal life had been thrown into disarray, it didn't mean they could ignore their other duties. Perhaps throwing himself at his work would help alleviate these sickening feelings thumping at his chest.

Rayne reminded himself to thank Weasel for arranging all of this. Despite having eyes that only sought gold, the rogue's heart was certainly in the right place.

The thumping of heavy plate greaves snapped at the paladin's attention. Even with all of the noise bubbling inside as well as outside the inn, there was no mistaking the confident stride of the Templar Knight's most seasoned warrior making his approach to their table.

"Yo Ray-" was about as far as his voice carried before a dissatisfying grunt echoed through his throat.

Marcus Bloodblade begrudgingly pulled up a chair and collapsed atop of it with a hearty thump. The veteran of every great war in recent history crossed his arms over his chest and sank his head downward.

"You've got to be kidding me," he sighed.

"Pay up," the rogue grinned.

The paladin's curiosity spark. He slowly lifted his skull from the ceramic plate it had once rested upon and caught a quick glance of Marcus tossing a small coin pouch in the gnome's direction. It landed with a satisfying jingle near the rest of his sizable pile.

"Do you really have to taunt me like that by counting it all in front of me?"

"Of course," Weasel smirked while prying the leather bag open and dumping the contents onto the table. "That's half the fun."

Rayne raised an eyebrow. He stared at his companions in bewilderment while attempting to piece together the reasoning behind the scene that played out before him.

"What's going on?"

The paladin spoke for the first time in what seemed like ages. His voice cracked slightly before regaining its composure towards the final breath.

"You cheeky bastard!" Snarled Marcus with a renewed sense of rage. "You brought me here under false pretenses!"

"You're the one who said you needed more proof," the gnome casually replied while admiring another gold coin.

"Weasel!"

The warrior slammed his fist on the table. Wood cracked under the mighty blow. Plates and coins skittered about in a rampant mess of Marcus' fury.

"What are you talking about?"

Rayne's words cut through the tension instantaneously. The rogue and warrior looked at their guild master and slowly slunk in their seats. A troubling silence grew amongst them which only pecked at the paladin's growing concern.

"I'm sorry Rayne," Marcus shrugged.

The words continued to dance in his mind for what seemed like ages before he could figure out the right ones to say.

"You see, the thing is," he began.

Rayne had witnessed the warrior stand up to the biggest adversaries without even a moment's hesitation. However, he'd never seen the warrior fumble over something so trivial as just a few simple words. Finally, Marcus steeled himself and began uttering the painful truth no matter how cruel it may seem.

"I lost a bet to old gasket-breath here," the warrior sighed while continuing in a defeated whisper. "Dumbest thousand gold pieces I ever spent."

"Plus fifty a day for every day you spend moping about it," added the gnome.

"WEASEL!"

Marcus snapped once more but still had the wherewithal to keep his angered fists off the table.

"A bet?"

The paladin's eyebrow slowly raised. He remembered these these two were bickering about a bet back in Ulduar but something in his already battered heart told him he wasn't about to like where this was going.

"Yea," nodded Marcus. He couldn't even look Rayne in the eyes when he uttered, "On whether or not you and Narula would end up together."

A bolt of dismay struck the paladin's chest. The same sickening feeling he had hoped would never return had revealed its vile form once again. Just hearing her name sent his emotions in a tirade. He struggled to push through the mess but finally found the resolve to return his focus to the matter at hand.

"You…" Rayne slowly started. "Bet against me Weasel?"

"The man gave me ten to one odds!" The rogue defended. "I did the math. Another few months of this and I'd be looking at an early retirement. What would you have done?!"

The paladin's head collapsed on the plate once more. He couldn't find the strength to keep it up anymore let alone get upset. Just when he found the courage to do and say the near impossible, fate finds a way to tear him down toward the shadow depths of reality.

"Must you be so noisy in the morning?" A stern voice casually asked from behind with a tinge of arrogance.

"Did you expect anything less from these two?" Another voice stated in a lighter but more mocking tone.

Rayne's glance shifted outward and caught a familiar pair of pristine white and grey robes rounding their table. Glimmering locks of shining silver hair rained sat quietly upon their regal attire. The two priests looked nearly identical save for finely crafted pair of glasses carefully resting along the face of the male sibling. They pulled out a pair of chairs in near unison and joined the rest of their companions. Judging by their tact, it appears the Legend twins were in usual spirits this morning. Unfortunately, some things just couldn't be helped.

Samuel and Zariyana came from a noble family much like the paladin himself. The world just looked different through the lenses of their matching gold eyes. Though they stood on a higher footing than the common folk of Azeroth, they had no issues standing shoulder to shoulder with the other Templar Knights when things got rough. They shared in Rayne's affinity towards the light but utilized their intellect towards aligning with the priesthood over the might favoring paladins.

However, they still had much work to do managing their empathy and sensitive towards their fellow guildmates.

"What is the matter with Rayne?" Samuel curiously asked.

"He looks ghastly," his sister snidely added.

Marcus irritably scoffed before chiming in.

"Damn cog-scented copper-pincher," he snarled. "You couldn't wait to tell me when you first heard but you couldn't bother sharing the news with anyone else?"

"Why would I?" Shrugged the rogue while counting the remains of his newly acquired currency. "They didn't take me up on our wager."

"Wager?"

Zariyana stared at the gnome with morbid interest.

"Probably would have been able to retired a few days ago if they did," Weasel continued. "I know their family's loaded. These two would have been cocky enough to up it to a cool thousand a day."

"What on earth are you babbling about?" The female priest mocked.

"Perhaps it's best not to get involved in their trite affairs my dear sister," Samuel replied. "I have no doubt Fun-size is merely attempting to reduce us to his minuscule level."

Normally a comment like that would incite the rogue's anger but when a large pile of easily earned gold is staring back at him, it was hard to get upset at anything these days.

"Greetings travelers," a soft voice called nearby. "Can I get you anything?"

Rayne couldn't even bother to acknowledge the innkeeper directly despite being raised with proper manners but his mind was too preoccupied to care about anything other than sulking at the moment. Despite his present mood, Isirami Fairwind and her staff have been most kind to the paladin during his stay here. Most adventurers have flocked to this inn specifically to have a glance at the radiant beauty of this particular high elf. Her light blonde and delicate blue eyes reminded travelers of a quite beach to which many have already found themselves lost staring at the gentle waves that greeted them.

"How about a stiff drink?" The warrior answered.

"What are you thirsty for today Marcus?" The high elf replied with a smile. "Stefen is unloading a new crate of brandy but the burnwine is still our most potent beverage."

Marcus shot a quick glance over to the dejected paladin.

"Anything that'll get this sour taste out of my mouth."

That got a quick laugh from Isirami as she jotted down the warrior's order on a piece of parchment. After serving new travelers for years on this floating city, she had come to expect a certain charm from the regulars. Marcus Bloodblade, on the other hand, always proved to be in a class of his own.

"A cup of honeymint tea for my sister and I," the male Legend twin stated. "A splash of milk for both and an extra serving honey for her."

"There isn't enough sugar on Azeroth to lighten her bitterness," Marcus commented under a stiff breath.

"And no amount of mead or ale will force the hair on your chest to grown on you head either Chromedome," Samuel casually fired back.

That retaliation would have normally drawn at the warrior's dwindling patience but given the circumstances, he exercised restraint.

"I'll go put your orders in," said Isirami breaking the awkward silence quickly growing amongst them. "It'll just be a few moments."

The high elf nodded graciously then made her exit with great haste. There was a certain air floating about the table that was thick with uncertainty and sorrow. Anyone in their right mind would have done the same but Isirami pulled it off with a touch of elegance that only she and a few other caretakers are capable of.

"May we get to the matter at hand?" Zariyana boldly began. "It's bad enough you forced us to meet in this dreary establishment."

"Why we even bothered to show up at the behest of the minuscule gnome is beyond me," her brother sighed.

"I'll say," spat the warrior. "The only reason I came out here is because he said Rayne wanted to meet with us but look at him," he continued jabbing a thick thumb in the paladin's direction. "The kid's practically a zombie. Hell, if we leave him as is, in another week, he'll start to look like a scabby, decayed minion of the -"

Marcus nearly continued but after taking a closer look at his young companion in his debilitated state, he ceased his protest entirely. Even if it was in jest, no one, especially a paladin would like to be compared to anything that grotesque.

"That does pique at my curiosity," Samuel chimed in. "I've never seen him quite like this before."

"Nor have I," Zariyana replied.

The female priest did catch a glimpse of Rayne during one of his dark periods just before stepping into the fortress known as Ulduar. Tried as he might, Zariyana was quickly able to decipher something was amiss with their usually unpretentious leader. Thankfully, it was a short-lived period and Rayne was able to return to his traditional self once more due to the kind words of a certain and notably absent member of their group.

This, however, was unlike anything either of the Legend twins had seen before and their previous uninquisitive nature towards anything or anyone other than themselves was pushed to the side as they desired to pry for more information.

"Is everything alright Rayne?" Asked the male twin. "You seem… Troubled."

"Are you still carrying any injuries from our previous battle?" Zariyana added with a touch more concern in her voice than anyone at the table was expecting to hear. "Is that why you were absent from the celebration after Ulduar."

"I had thought it was due to some _other_ celebration," stated Samuel.

The female Legend twin stared at her brother inquisitively. Her sharp golden eyes bore into him with the weight of a thousand blades.

"Why do you think I called you out here for?" Weasel replied without even taking his eyes off his coin pouch. "He's been cooped up in his room for nearly two weeks. I figured some fresh air and a hot meal would do him some good."

Rayne slowly picked himself up from the table. He glanced at the gnome which soon turned into a casual stare. Weasel had been coming by daily to check on the paladin but his visits were fairly brief and uneventful. He brought with him a hot meal to which Rayne occassionally picked at to keep him sustained. He didn't possess the hunger nor the desire to do anything other than reflect on the events that transpired. It wasn't what he wanted to do, however, he couldn't find the will to do anything else.

There was a small glimmer of light shining through the vestiges of darkness. Weasel was one of the last people he expected amongst his companions to show a high level of concern. Even though it was to partially line his pockets, the fact that he brought everyone here for his behalf was a noble gesture in and of itself.

A deep but light breath exited the paladin's lungs. He slowly turned and looked over at the rest of his companions seated around the table. They all paid him a look of concern in their own unique way. Rayne felt ashamed sitting before them is such state. He hadn't bothered to shave and the growing stubble was unbecoming. The paladin carried the look of misery on every corner of his face and it was abundantly clear that everyone was curious to know why.

"Here you are," the Innkeeper called while placing the steaming cups of tea before the priests. "And a tankard of burnwine for you Marcus."

The Knights nodded and thanked Isirami without taking their eyes off Rayne.

"Enjoy," she stated with a smile before venturing back to tend to the other patrons.

The paladin paid one last glance towards his coin-counting compatriot.

"You didn't tell anyone else?" He carefully asked.

The gnome shook his head casually and shrugged.

"I had to tell Marcus on a count of," Weasel answered with his eyes darting back and forth between the paladin and a small sack of gold. "Well, you know. Flame-Brain was asking about you earlier and I may have casually mentioned it to him. He seemed like he was in a rush and told me he'd be back soon with some potential news."

"Must you continue to speak so cryptically," a growingly annoyed Samuel interrupted.

"Everyone appears to know the reason for Rayne's distress but us," Zariyana continued staring daggers into the gnome. "What is it you're not tell – "

"Enough already," interrupted Marcus. "Spit it out Weasel."

"Hey!" The rogue begrudgingly defended. "Even I don't know the whole story. I'd been pestering him for nearly a week before he meekly gave me an answer. I'm still waiting to hear all the details the same as you guys."

Everyone slowly turned their attention back towards the paladin. This dance had gone on long enough. These weren't just his brothers and sisters in battle or fellow guildmates. These were his friends. If the Legend twins, arguably coldest of them all, were showing genuine concern then perhaps it was time to tell them.

Rayne had replayed these moments in his mind for days on end. It was all he could think about when he was awake and the only thing he dreamed about when he slept. He took a deep breath and steeled his gaze as he mustered up the strength to relive those events out loud for the very first time.

* * *

 _Ulduar_

 _The Storm Peaks_

 _10 days ago_

"I love you, Narula."

A chilling wind swept between them carrying a harmonious whistle in its wake. Rayne stared back at the gorgeous night elf standing before him. Her long purple hair shined radiantly like an amethyst over her delicate lavender skin. Throughout all of the trials they shared together, none of them had scared the paladin more than this very moment. It only took a long and arduous battle against an ancient evil to grant him the courage to boldly confess what his heart had been screaming for years.

The mountainous scenery had grown completely silent. Seconds passed as if they were decades. Every moment since the words left his lips began taxing at his heart. However, nothing was going to break his resolve as he graciously awaited to hear her answer.

Narula Dawngrove looked upon him with her soft silver eyes. Her gaze slowly descended away from him and downwards towards the snowy valley in the distance below. A slender arm crept up and seized the unbent elbow of the other. She took a shallow breath. Rayne's heart thumped with feverish anticipation.

"I'm sorry."

The night elf's expression darkened. Thousands of daggers and blades pierced at the paladin's heart. Her face winced as the words came pouring out of her mouth.

"Forgive me Raymond," she begged.

It was hard to hear anything over the ringing that had flooded his ears upon hearing the dreaded news.

"I cannot return your feelings."

Rayne's heart roared as if being trounced upon by an entire fleet of siege engines. The air in his throat dried. He couldn't utter the words even if they were readily available to say anything in response.

"You are a treasured companion and my dearest friend. I am honored to know that you feel that way about me."

A faint light flickered within the paladin's chest. Narula offered a small smile with those passing words. Perhaps there still remained a glimmer of hope for him after all.

"However,"

One single word shattered the fragile glass house of disillusion. He was wrong to mistake her mercy for anything but.

"Our relationship can never be more than what we already share."

Rayne's knees trembled. He found it difficult to stand up to this barrage of painful words being thrown at him in a torrent of endless remorse. If it weren't for all of the resolve he had mustered to utter his confession in the first place, the paladin would have cracked three sentences ago.

"You will always have my strength in battle, my support as an ally of the Templar Knights, and my eternal friendship."

The night elf released the grip of her elbow. Her eyes once more returned to staring back at his. A hand slowly rose until finally resting in the center of her chest. It appeared she had one last thing to tell him. She had been battling her own resolve to muster the courage to respond in such a fashion. At the very least, she wanted to pay him the respect of looking upon him as Narula uttered her final words.

"But the one thing I can never give you," the night elf painfully finished. "Is my heart."

Narula slowly took her eyes off the paladin as she turned around. The night elf walked towards the awaiting portal leading her back home to Ashenvale where she would return to her primary role as mother and caretaker for the Raynewood Orphanage.

Air choked in Rayne's throat. His arm extended desperately reaching out towards the fading night elf. Try as he might, the words never found their way to his tongue. Time seemed to stop altogether as Narula declared her feelings to the paladin and now seemingly blinked away in an instant as she disappeared into the portal.

Metal slammed against the stony surface. Rayne's greaves dug into the raised platform as he fell to his knees. His hand trembled as the adrenaline subsided from his bloodstream. Thousands of thoughts began tearing through his mind in a tornado of emotions. He didn't know whether to burn his lungs in an angered roar or force a painful laugh to try in a vain attempt to dismiss the tremendous blow he had suffered.

There was nothing he could do to control his body's reaction at this moment. Throughout all of the suffering he's endured in a lifetime, nothing hurt worse than this horrendous feeling in this very moment.

A gust of wind rushed over him. Not even the painful chill of these mountain heights registered to the paladin. Any signal he sent to his body was ignored or met with outright rejection much like he had just recently suffered himself. He was no longer in control of neither his actions nor emotions. Out of all of the responses he imagined he would hear on this day, Rayne expected anything other what was ultimately delivered.

Then sun was setting in the horizon. A glaze of orange light fell before his vision. It quickly blurred before him as a single tear fell from his eye and slowly slid down his cheek. Several more quickly followed as the great paladin of the Alliance, Champion of Wintergrasp, and newly crowned Conqueror of Ulduar openly wept at the entrance of the Titan-forged city.

* * *

 _A Hero's Welcome_

 _Dalaran_

The paladin gazed down upon the table. He thought it would much more difficult to speak about of that dreaded event but he found it surprisingly easy once he got started. The memories had been playing back in his mind non-stop for nearly two weeks. Actually saying it out loud to a willing and friendly audience was oddly therapeutic to say the least.

Silence hung creepily around the ambient air. Rayne lifted his head and was met with the surprising gaze of all four members of the Templar Knights seemingly sharing the same expression of utter bewilderment. Even with all of their unique histories, personalities, and quirks, the paladin never expected all of them to react in nearly identical fashion.

"I don't believe it," the warrior scoffed while throwing himself back against the chair and crossing his arms. "That's cold."

"Tell me about it," replied Weasel. "You'll never see me up on those mountains without a jacket again. Nearly froze my – "

"I wasn't talking about the weather you micro-sprocketed idiot!" Marcus fired back. "It's just that…"

Even someone as courageous and experienced as the warrior found himself searching for the right words to express his sentiments while treading lightly over Rayne's bruised heart.

"I've see the way she looks at you kid," Marcus sighed. "If I would have heard it from anyone other than you I would have called them a damn liar and then ripped their tongue out for spreading such nonsense."

"Likewise," added the gnome. "Though I probably would have to stab it a few times to loosen it up first. I ain't got muscles like Chromedome here."

Surprisingly, the Legends twins remained quiet. Rayne had expected some sort of arrogant comment or at the very least, a pithy remark about the paladin's foolish way he broached the subject given how and where it occurred. It wasn't until a few moments later that Zariyana broke the silence by casually lifting the still steaming cup of tea to her thin pink lips and too a gentle sip.

"That was certainly an unexpected outcome," she calmly said while placing the cup back in its saucer. "I must say, I may have misjudged Narula."

"You and me both princess," sighed Marcus while taking a generous gulp of the tankard of booze sitting before him.

"Look on the bright side kid," grinned the warrior. "Now that you've got that out of your system, you are now free to play the field and sow your oats in any farm you wish."

"Hey!" Barked the rogue. "You can't cheer him up. That's breaking the rules of our agreement."

"Are you still going to hold me to that shit after what we've just heard?"

Weasel looked over at Rayne who still carried the dejected look of misery upon his face and didn't offer a single word of resistance. The rogue may have been greedy but he wasn't one to kick a friend while they're down, especially the one who deserved it least of them all.

"I'm just saying, there are plenty of fish in the sea," he continued. "Rayne's not the only one who makes love-struck eyes at a pretty face. What about the girl at Lucian's winery that can't keep her hands off you? Or the baker on the north side of town that's more sweet on you than her own pastries?"

A sinister thought entered the warrior's mind. There happened to be someone else at this very table who could use a little humbling of their own. Perhaps a little suffering at the expense of a comrade would finally uplift the paladin's waning mood.

"Hell," Marcus cunningly grinned while jabbing his thumb across the table. "There's always Zari."

The air in the inn grew immensely thick. The warrior stared into the golden eyes of the female Legend twin as he continued with his brazen declaration.

"How 'bout it ice-princess? I'm sure you'd be more than happy to accept the kid's hand in marriage, wouldn't you?"

Nothing but silence filled the surrounding area. All of the attention immediately grew on the silver haired priest who sat before them. Zariyana didn't appear to even acknowledge the question as her gaze peered into the steaming brown abyss before her. Her expression remained firm and unchanged. She slowly lifted the cup of tea to her lips and indulged in another small sip. It began its descent towards the saucer once more as she finally looked up at the paladin and answered.

"Yes, I'd marry Rayne."

Everyone at the table sat in utter shock prompting shouts of disbelief. Marcus nearly fell backwards in his chair. Weasel stared away from his newly earned fortune as if it didn't exist. Samuel's jaw was hung open forgoing all manners and etiquette he grew up with as a noble. Even the paladin had a wild flicker of emotion radiating through his blue eyes.

"Zariyana," her brother began as he choked on the words through a distinct cringe of curiosity and concern. "You're not serious, are you?"

"Of course," she quickly replied while drawing the cup upwards for another quick sip. "Despite some flaws in his personality, Rayne comes from a noble household. He has been given a title by King Varian himself and continues to foster a grand reputation not just amongst the members of the Alliance but with Azeroth as a whole."

She placed the cup down and carefully dabbed off the excess droplets from the corners of her lips.

"Also, he is a remarkable physical specimen. I'm sure he would breed good children worthy of the Legend name."

No one at the table had ever expected someone with a reputation of being as cold as the highest peaks in Northrend and more blunt than the point blank ram of a steam engine to ever utter such bold words. Samuel, Weasel, and Marcus all looked at each other in bewilderment as if trying to confirm without that they had all heard the same thing. Their gaze slowly shifted back towards the paladin who looked equally, if not more so, stunned at the news presented to him.

"Zariyana…"

Rayne was aghast. His thoughts were flooded with nothing but the history and memories shared between him and the young priest. It was the first time that it hadn't been filled with the sorrow of the recent events that transpired which was a welcomed change at this point even if attained through somewhat unexpected means.

"When did you –," stammered the paladin racing through the right words to say in response. "I mean… How long have you been in love with me?"

Uproarious laughter echoed throughout the inn. The female Legend twin fell back in her chair as a gout of chuckles poured from her lungs. Her body convulsed in ways that even her own brother had rarely seen. Seconds passed like hours. She finally started to calm down as her giggling slowed. Zariyana wiped away the small tears bubbling in the corners of her eyes as she stared back at the paladin with a heavy smile.

"This is about preserving a strong lineage Rayne. What does love have to do with it?"

The paladin sulked in his seat once more. This was not what he had expected to hear in response to his question but shouldn't have put it past her either given her own personality and quirks. Noble households have been arrangement marriages for centuries to continue their rule and legacy. He shouldn't have put it past Zariyana to think any differently. Rayne's life seemingly changed within an instant and quickly returned back to form just as quickly. He didn't even have time to ponder whether or not it made him happy.

"Enough!"

Samuel slammed his hands on the table and rose from his seat. He spilled several coins onto the wooden surface to pay for their drinks as well as a generous tip before pushing his seat back and walking towards the exit.

"Samuel!" His sister shouted back. "Why did you - Where are you going?"

She quickly followed in similar suit and haste chasing after her brother in the hopes of getting an explanation to his sudden emotional outburst. Zariyana had just caught up with him a few steps just before the exit before a familiar fiery-robed individual came walking towards them.

"Samuel?"

The red-haired mage stopped at the door and looked upon him with profound interest.

"What's going – "

"Not now Flame Brain."

Samuel left without so much as a second glance and merged into the busy streets of Dalaran with his sister slowly trailing behind him.

"Wait a second!" He angrily shouted back. "I've got some important news!"

His words fell upon deaf ears. The Legend twins faded into the crowd in the blink of an eye. Rather than give chase to what he knew was a lost cause, the mage entered the inn and quickly found some friendly faces staring back in his direction. He pulled back his robe revealing spikey locks of bright red hair as well as a small tuft hanging from his chin.

"Why were they in such a rush?"

"Who knows?" Shrugged the warrior. "I just hit stuff. I'll leave the thinking to guys like you Matchstick."

"Stop calling me that!" The mage snapped. "It's bad enough those two got one of them to stick. Now you're starting another one?"

"This one seems to be more fitting," Weasel chirped. "See how quickly you blew up?"

"Hey!"

Cayden Melton begrudgingly took a seat in the newly vacated chairs. The apprentice of Archmage Rhonin may have been the youngest member of the Templar Knights but his intellect and accolades thus far has proven himself to be a worthy member of the guild. His skills in the arcane arts are only rivaled by his fiery and abrupt temper.

"You're lucky I've got urgent business to attend to," the mage pouted. "Otherwise I'd –"

His words were silenced upon glancing at the paladin across the table. Cayden' temper quickly subsided and returned to normal.

"How are you feeling Rayne?" He carefully asked. "I had heard about what happened. I don't mean to intrude into your personal affairs but –"

The mage ceased continuing that thought immediately after being met with a short but compassionate smile from across the table.

"I'm okay," Rayne stated drawing on the last words with a long sigh.

"Great," grunted Weasel. "Is he going to have to tell that story again? I've had enough depressing tales for one day, thanks."

"Let's not go down that road," Marcus interjected while slugging another hefty gulp of booze. "What's got you so _fired_ up this morning?"

"R-right!"

The mage fumbled over his words after the subject quickly and thankfully changed. He reached into his robes and began searching within.

"After we returned from Ulduar, I received an expedited courier message from Lord Templar."

"My father…?"

Rayne stared intently. He hadn't spoken to his father since commissioning their previous assignment back in Menethil Harbor and not really anyone else since their return. The paladin expected word to reach him quickly but to receive a response in such a short amount of time was rather surprising to say the least.

"Yes," replied Cayden continuing to dig through his interior pockets. "He expressed dire interest in meeting with you. It is in regards to a request that requires your urgent attention."

"My father wants me to return," the paladin sighed. "Doesn't he?"

Cayden casually shook his head.

"That's just it Rayne," he began. "Lord Templar does not want you to come home. Your father is coming here to see you."

"What?"

The news brought upon a wave of new emotions. Lord Templar had not left his keep in years. Ever since the fall of Lordaeron and Rayne's ascension as heir and leader of the Templar Knights, Nigel Templar had somewhat retired from his duties and become a bit of recluse. Other than the time he met with Rayne at Light's Hope Chapel, the fact that he was leaving the Eastern Kingdoms entirely to such a distant place and doing so willingly was a shock to say the least.

"This doesn't make sense," he replied shaking his head. "Why would he come personally just to deliver a message?"

"He's not coming alone. He's bringing with him the rest of the Templar army."

"Whoa," Marcus interrupted. "Are you serious?"

"What's Rayne got himself into this time that the old coot needs to bring the rest of his _bodyguards_ for?" The rogue cheekily asked.

This was getting stranger by the minute. The first time Rayne had asked for a fraction of their army's strength his father nearly balked at the idea. In the end, he gave into the paladin's request. The fact that he was departing from his own keep and leaving it relatively unguarded defied all logic.

"That doesn't make sense."

Rayne shook his head. Something was definitely amiss here and he required more information before he could start piecing everything together.

"Why did you come here to tell me this?" Pondered Rayne. "If my father intends to come and see me with his army, wouldn't it be faster to travel by portal instead of boat?"

"I just heard it myself a few minutes ago," the mage replied. "Lord Templar is still making the arrangements with your army and city of Menethil before they travel to Northrend. Naturally I was asked to stay to assist in those preparations but I requested a temporary leave in order to make a few of my own. He offered me two days to handle my business before returning."

The paladin raised an eyebrow and awaited Cayden to continue.

"Your father also asked to gather all of the Templar Knights as well while I'm here."

Rayne's shoulders dropped as he sulked in his seat.

"Everyone…?"

The mage nodded slowly.

"This is happening too fast," Rayne sighed. "I don't know if it's even possible to – "

"I thought you might say that given," the mage paused before finishing. "Everything that transpired which is why I wanted to tell you personally so that you may properly prepare yourself for what's to come."

"Prepare?"

Rayne lifted himself from his seat. The way that Cayden worded his statement was filled with boldness and importance that demanded the paladin's full attention.

"The summons."

Cayden rolled the sealed parchment across the table. It stopped on the plate before the paladin. A golden wax seal stared back at him in the shape of a sun with a pressed palm in the center.

"It's from the Highlord," Cayden declared. "Tirion Fording has requested a personal audience with you."


	3. Chapter 2

_A Hero's Welcome_

 _Dalaran_

Rayne collapsed on the bed. A towel clung tightly to his waist. The tiny fragments of water that remained on his exposed skin soaked into the rough cotton sheets. He was surprised at how good it felt to shave and take a nice long bath. It had been a while since the paladin had been that attentive to his personal hygiene but certain circumstances standing as they were didn't afford such luxuries.

Unlike the previous week, the last two days seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye. Rayne pondered the news over his head again and again. His father would be arriving shortly bringing with him the entirety of their army and hopefully, more information as to why Rayne out of the thousand others who arrived on this hellish continent, was chosen by the Highlord himself. It was the only thing on his mind since hearing the news from Cayden. While it was a welcomed change from the other thoughts previously plaguing him, this one brought up a whole new list of challenges in and of itself.

After the Argent Tournament had ended, Tirion Fordring and the rest of the Argent Crusade had established a base at the root of Icecrown itself. It was a bold move to put the biggest contingent of their forces that close to the Lich King's demonic castle but after everything that has occurred since this dreaded incursion began, the Alliance and Horde alike have been willing to accept the Highlord's judgment in these matters.

The paladin felt a touch of excitement brewing in his chest. Meeting someone as esteemed as Tirion was a great honor. Not only was he one of the most noble and righteous paladins on Azeroth today but he is also one of the few that has actually confronted the Lich King himself and lived to tell about it. That in and of itself earned Tirion countless amounts of respect as well as adoration. However, Rayne was most excited to meet a fellow paladin that is living proof that even if one of us has fallen, the light still shined brightly among them.

All of these thoughts swelled within his mind for far too long. The paladin new his time was dwindling and needed to get suited up before his father's arrival. He had spent the better part of the evening cleaning and repairing his armor. Rayne was no blacksmith in any regards. There were still plenty of dings and scratches along the surface that would require some professional work to fix but at the very least, least the suit would be presentable for today's gathering.

The paladin lifted himself up slowly. A stabbing pain clawed at his sides. Rayne winced as his arm instinctively clutched his ribs in order to help quell the lingering trauma. The large bruise still ached to the touch. His body still carried deep wounds from within the depths o fUlduar. Though a simple touch of the light would have aided in his recovery, Rayne had allowed it to continue as a reminder of everything that has transpired thus far. In an odd way, it allowed him to feel something other than the crippling grip sorrow had over his heart.

A bundle of fresh bandages sat on the nightstand. Isirami had brought them earlier this morning. She had gone above and beyond the call of duty as an innkeeper. Rayne reminded himself to thank her for the gracious hospitality and patience she has shown during his stay. The paladin had not been as warm and polite as he was known for and wanted to remedy that sooner rather than later.

Rayne reached over towards the nightstand. A pair of gentle knocks tapped against the nearby door. The paladin's attention was stalled as his gaze was suddenly diverted. A soft creak echoed forward as the door slowly opened.

The air slowly dried within his throat. Standing in the doorway before him was someone he had never expected to pay him a personal visit.

* * *

 _K3_

 _The Storm Peaks_

Tufts of snow kicked off the slender brown leather boots of the young elf. Lorelei Starstrider walked with a steady but feverish pace. The heavy broadsword strapped behind her slapped the edge of her backside with every step. Sprinkles of white powder rained down from the chains of her mail armor as she continued southward towards the small encampment ahead.

The blood in her veins was running cold. All of the strength she had accumulated was slowly trickling away with every desperate breath. The voice that had given her the extraordinary power and guidance to make it this far had gone silent since her previous battle. In the blink of an eye, the young elf had everything she wanted taken away from her once again. Only one thing could pinpoint the source of her misery. The only reason she suffered like this today was all thanks to one unscrupulous man. All she had left in this world was to bring him the same sorrow he unduly wrought upon her.

Lorelei had been humiliated once again. She had the bastard paladin right where she wanted him and in her moment of utter victory, she underestimated his cunningness and was defeated by his hand. At the very least, he could have spared her this wretched feeling by killing her outright as he had so easily done to her elder sibling. He must have wanted her to suffer. The arrogant jerk even turned the young elf's only remaining companion against her. She had no choice but to kill the tiger. He was weak. She would no longer be dependent on that kind of strength any longer.

The gates to this encampment were guarded by two small but well-armed goblins. They stood on opposing dies of the entrance. Several small domed enclosures sat within the gated area. Various sprockets and engineering devices poked through the top showcasing the tiny green-skinned joker's affinity for the craft. Whatever reason they had for making a base of operations in this snow-laden hellhole was no concern to the young elf. She needed to move forward with her new goal in life and the first step of that plan was to leave this sickening white landscape behind.

Both of the standing guards gave Lorelei a quick glance as she passed through. They were adorned in heavy coats of leather armor. It was either in a vain attempt at making them look bigger and subsequently more imposing or they too felt the chill of the crisp air around them and desperately clung to any heat they could in order to fulfill their duties.

The young elf quickly turned the corner and walked toward the only open building amongst the lot in this base. Whether it was an inn or a temporary staging ground, she needed to find something or someone to secure passage off this blasted land.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lorelei spotted a pair of large green-skinned behemoths standing casually against the wall. The bore heavy plates of steel armor along their hefty hides decorated in chaotic fashion with various spikes and chains. The cold weather didn't seem to bother these too as much as it did their smaller counterparts but something was a little off about their attire. Hanging from their breastplate all the way down to their knees was a long black tabard. In the center, it depicted an image of snarling white orc bearing its sharp teeth for all to see. The young elf thought it looked familiar but couldn't pinpoint when or where she had seen it; not that it mattered much anyways. Her brother had always told her amongst all of the races aligned with the Horde, the orcs were the least to be trusted. Besides the blade strapped to her back, the memories and wisdom imparted by her deceased sibling were all that she had left of him.

The young elf's ears couldn't help but hear their uncouth conversation as she casually walked passed. Their tongues were just as vile as their preferred style of combat. It was hard to imagine how any of them could understand the other but even beasts in the wild have developed effective ways of communicating with one another.

"Agmar is out of his mind sending us here," the first scoffed.

"You better watch that mouth," scolded the other. "If the Overlord heard you trashing his favorite subordinate, he could ask me to bury you here next."

The first slightly recoiled at that comment. Nevertheless, his disdain for this alleged assignment continued.

"Why in the hell would he ask us to pick up the new recruit anyways?" He begrudgingly spat on the ground not hoping for or even waiting for an answer to his previous question. "If they're supposed to be as deadly as we are to believe, can't they even afford their own ride to our base."

The second let out a rough grunt which was his best attempt to sigh.

"This one's _special_ ," he answered back seemingly annoyed that he had to even speak in response. "Or else, why would we even be out here."

"How can anyone be so special to warrant a summons from the High Overlord of the Warsong Offensive himself?"

The first held his stance firmly. He was not willing to let this go so easily despite the earlier threat.

"Our resources are spread thin enough as is. How can we even afford to let our soldiers perform escorts when we can't even extend our foothold in Dragonblight?"

His fist slammed into the nearby wall making an impressive dent into the stony surface.

"Of all of the places, why would anyone in their right mind come all the way out here? The real fight is in Icecrown, not some desolate snowy wasteland!"

"We're here!" The second snapped back with a growing tinge of anger. It appears this one knew more than he was letting on and couldn't contain that information within him any longer. "Not only to pick up, but to protect."

"Protect?"

The first raised an eyebrow so high it nearly tore through the top of his helm. His warm curiosity quickly vanished into rage as it only cemented his previous sentiments.

"Protect them from who?!" He shouted back. "There is nothing here but goats and foxes! What can Agmar or even the High Overlord himself fear from livestock?!"

"Not livestock," the second calmly answered. "We've received reports that _he_ was spotted in this area not too long ago. Overlord Agmar was being cautious, not careless."

"He?" The first questioned almost aghast at the thought of who his fellow soldier could possibly be speaking about. "The Lich King was here?"

The second shook his head slowly but sharply.

"Not him," he hissed. "Templar."

Lorelei's heart cried as if a blade had cut through it. She stopped dead in her tracks just outside the entrance to the domed building and continued to eavesdrop into the orcs' conversation desperate for more information. The very name of the man who had cursed her with such a horrendous existence had resurfaced much sooner than anticipated.

Apparently, these orcs have heard of his heinous deeds as well.

"Templar? Here?!"

The first was flabbergasted exuding emotions between shock and rage at a frenzied pace.

"Is Garrosh still making good on his bounty? We could –"

The second raised his hand and stopped the other's rampant line of questioning from continuing further.

"That was almost two weeks ago," he calmly stated. "There are no reports of anyone seeing him since. As I said. Agmar is being cautious. That's all."

"So, this soldier we're picking up," the first sternly asked. "Does he have information on where Templar is hiding? Is that why we Agmar forced us to come here today?"

The second grunted and shrugged his shoulders.

"When we return to base," he casually replied. "Ask him yourself."

The young elf nearly began salivating. This was almost too perfect. She could use them to secure transport out of this damned place and make her way towards engulfing the paladin's life in nothing but misery. She failed to do so once using brute force. This time, Lorelei was going to strike a blow exactly where he had once delivered onto her.

Orcs and Blood Elves always had an inimical relationship but given how these two reacted, all the young elf would have to do was drop his name and she could convince the rest of the Warsong Offensive to dispatch an army to find her dreaded adversary. Of course, this ruse would not lead them to the paladin himself but rather, the one she wanted to punish on his behalf.

 _Narula…!_

She couldn't believe how foolish she once was. The young elf gawked and paraded after a human like a child when he already gave his heart away to another. If he truly cared about _her_ as much as the rumors have led Lorelei to believe, then her death would be a fitting way to exact her revenge. All she had to do now was convince these soldiers to take her to the one they called Garrosh and find out just where that bitch of an elf was hiding.

The young elf peered into the building. Her eyes glowed with delight upon seeing a folded tabard of similar color and design sitting atop a nearby table. The one the orcs were seeking may have casually left it here or could even be lurking nearby. Either way, that piece of attire was her ticket to enacting her final vengeance. It wasn't like the orcs knew exactly who they were supposed to pick up. Whoever they were, if they were this careless and foolish to be bested in such a manner didn't deserve their spot as it was handed to them. Lorelei and her brother were never handed anything. Whatever they had, the two siblings always fought for and she wasn't about to stop now.

The building was oddly quiet as the young elf casually snuck herself in. She walked down a short hallway no bigger than five feet wide and about ten feet deep before it opened to a larger room. This place appeared to be a resting area for travelers but it was nowhere near what one would call an inn. Patches of hey covered the floors with tattered rags with what appeared to be bed sheets sitting atop them. The one table in the center with the prize she desperately needed was the only piece of real furniture in this room.

A sickening cough echoed from the western side of the room. Loreleli quickly slid back and silently planted her back against the wall just at the edge of the opening. The owner of that tabard was definitely here. Thankfully, there was no one else. This would be all too easy.

The young elf carefully inched ahead. Her eyes poked out of the hallway and into the side of the room where the disturbing sound originated from. A pile of plate armor sat on the ground against the curved wall on the far end of the building. Standing before it was a horrifying mass of gray, decayed flesh. Molts of green hair hung from his thin scalp and hung across his scab covered shoulders. His black tongue flew wildly outside of the large rotten hole where his jaw should be.

Lorelei recognized him immediately as a member of the Forsaken, the hideous undead beings that have found new life with their blighted mistress known as Slyvannas Windrunner. Own of their very own had fallen in battle and instead of accepting the glory of a noble death, she chose to continue her wretched existence commanding an army of those who once had invaded Lorelei's home and left a deadly scar in their wake.

At least, that was the story her brother had told her.

Whoever this forsaken soldier was, he definitely appeared to be the one the orcs were after. He was nonchalantly donning large plates of armor over his skinny skeletal form. A large axe stood pressed against the while a couple of feet away where his armor sat. The heavy plates slapped together echoing into the room and filling it with something other than that dreaded hissing. Other than that, the room was quite.

Lorelei pondered sneaking forward, seizing the tabard, and fleeing before the forsaken even knew he'd been robbed. However, she quickly found two faults with that plan. First, if something went awry during or his ears worked better than she anticipated, it was going to turn into a brawl. Second, she had no idea if the orcs outside were going to believe her story outright. It may take some convincing to sway their judgement. Convincing takes time. Unfortunately, she didn't have the luxury to take either of those options at this point and opted for the safer and more sound solution.

The young elf watched as the undead beast continued to don his armor with his back to the door. Lorelei had helped her brother do so countless times before. Every notch that needed securing, every strap that required tightening was second nature to her. She could do it blindfolded even. This also meant she knew when the Forsaken would be the most vulnerable and opted for that precise moment to strike.

Plates of armor skidded aside as the undead soldier lifted his breastplate off the ground. Large black spaulders covered in dents and scratches hung off from each opposing side. The Forsaken lifted it over his head and began lowering it over his shoulders.

Lorelei exploded from her position and sprinted forward. The armor was completely covered his head by the time she reached striking distance. It fell upon his shoulders with a satisfying plop as the young elf reached for the back plate, spun to the side, and drilled her heel into the back of the forsaken's exposed knee.

A quick screech escaped through the gaping hole in his neck but was immediately silenced as the breastplate's collar sharply rose and cut through the remains of his decaying neck. The undead soldier's head popped clean off and bounced to the ground. It rolled for a few moments before stopping at the leg of the table where the young elf's ticket out of this damned place sat.

Bubbles of grey fluid choked out of the enlarged hole above the newly deceased forsaken's shoulders. Even their very blood ran cold as the icy terrain from which they spawned. It barely made it past his exposed, flesh-torn collarbone before coming to a complete halt. Not a drop of his fluids spilled onto the ground as the forsaken collapsed onto his knees in a lifeless heap.

The young elf pushed herself away and examined the work. The soldier was clearly dead, for the second time that is, and no one was the wiser. Surprisingly, Lorelei felt no remorse or sadness for her actions. She didn't even feel pity, anger, or delight. No matter where she searched, not a single errant emotion could be found.

The scene before her would be difficult to explain if anyone came wandering by. The young elf grabbed the remains of the undead soldier and tossed his headless body onto a heap of hey. She quickly reached for a raggedy blanket. Lorelei placed his head back where it was supposed to be before throwing the dismal sheet over it too. To the passing eye, it looked as if the soldier was still sleeping. It may not buy her an hour but it would easily afford her the few minutes she needed to trick the orcs into going along with her plan.

Lorelei swiped the tabard from the table and immediately threw it over hear head. It rested comfortably atop her thin shoulders and she tied it snugly around her waist. She casually walked out of the build without so much as a trickle of regret and approached the two orcs begrudgingly leaning against the wall near the entrance.

The orcs didn't actually acknowledge her presence for a moment. When the first one caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye, he didn't even bother with a glance before dismissing her.

"You're making the air stink," he snarled. "What do you want?"

His dismissive tone could not sway the young elf's resolve no matter how uncouth he was.

"Let's go."

Lorelei was brimming with confidence. She didn't let the cold nor recent murder affect her attitude in the slightest.

"Go?" The first replied with a mixture of confusion and annoyance as he turned to face her directly. "Just who do you think you –"

His words froze as he sized up the young elf from top to bottom. A grim expression befell his eyes. They last locked upon the glorious black tabard of their mutual faction.

"Where did you get that?!" He growled. Every passing word had a greater edge to it than the last. "Elves are not welcome in the Warsong Offensive!"

He lunged at Lorelei, grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her from the ground in the blink of an eye. The orc's icy breath coated her slender face in a foul cloud of unpleasantness.

"Who sent you?!" He shouted. "Where did you –"

"I'm going to see Garrosh," she carefully remarked. "And you're going to take me to him."

The young elf easily kept her composure despite the threat of this orc ripping her in half. She had nothing to fear from these men. After all, she had something of great interest that she knew these two narrow-minded hunks of muscle would be very delighted to here.

Her bold statement did nothing but draw deeper into the orc's ire. He lifted her up closely preparing to shout another line of vile nonsense when the heavy hand of his fellow soldier fell upon his armored shoulder.

"And why do you think we're just going to do as you say elf?" The second countered. "What business do you have with the Warsong Offensive that supersedes the High Overlord's?"

Lorelei couldn't help but smile. At least one of them had a decent head on their shoulders. It may have seen arrogant to laugh in the face of death but she knew above all else, this information was beneficial to all parties involved. It may have twisted her stomach in a knot to utter that name again but the cause was justified.

"Because," she smirked not flinching for a moment in front of the green behemoth mere inches away from her face. "I know where to find Rayne Templar."

* * *

 _A Hero's Welcome_

 _Dalaran_

"What are you doing here?"

The paladin was taken back at the sight before him. Standing in the doorway wearing shimmering white robes lined with silver and black trims was the female twin of the illustrious Legend family of nobles.

"Pardon my intrusion Rayne," she said softly. "May I come in?"

"Yes, of course!" The paladin defended. "Don't worry about it. You know you're always welcome here Zari."

A sudden illicit thought struck his mind and he immediately began backpedaling. After the sudden realization a couple of days ago, Rayne knew he needed to tread lightly over certain areas. Being shirtless wearing nothing but a towel didn't help matters either.

"Of course, I didn't mean it like that!"

Zariyana offered a small but genuine smile as she took a step inside the bedroom and carefully shut the door behind her.

"Your father is arriving today," she stated as the door stopped with a satisfying thud. "It has been some time since you last saw him and after what has transpired I wanted to ensure you were doing well –"

She suddenly stopped in mid-sentence. The golden eyes of the priest glanced at the nightstand where Rayne's hand hovered over a roll of bandages. She returned her gaze to him and snapped a quick peek at his ribs still harboring discoloration for the trauma he had suffered during his battle in the depths of Ulduar.

"Judging by my intuition, it appears I was right," sighed Zariyana. "You're still harboring injuries from our last mission."

The paladin's hand jerked slightly back before pulling away entirely. It fell upon his thigh as he hung his head down and sulked. There was no use trying to deny anything anymore. All of his cards were on the table now.

"I wasn't trying to hide it," he sighed while stammering over finding the right words to say next. This part still stung to say out loud. "It's just. My mind was preoccupied with other things. I guess I didn't – "

The bed softly shook as new weight was put upon it. Rayne looked up and found the priest was now sitting beside him. She carefully began sliding her masterly threaded white gloves from her hand finger by finger. When it was free from the cloth garment, it glowed with a bright golden light.

The paladin flinched for a moment as Zariyana's hand graced his damaged ribs. She did it so boldly without uttering a single word. Her warm touch numbed the stinging pain. The color began to fade and his flesh was slowly returning to its normal shade.

"Your ribs are still fractured. Not tending to these wounds properly caused them to start the healing processes incorrectly. You will still need to keep them wrapped so that they may set in."

Rayne nodded not knowing what else to say in this situation. Normally, the Legend twins would take this opportunity to be boastful about their own abilities while scolding the other for being so foolish. However, Zariyana didn't seem to be doing either. The way she was speaking to the paladin was very caring and nurturing, much like a mother would in any similar situation.

"Thank –"

"Turn around."

The paladin gulped and nodded in acknowledgement. He shifted himself on the bed and faced the window. From behind, he heard Zariyana grasp the roll of bandages and unwind them. Her hands returned once more to his exposed sides as she carefully ran the freshly woven material around his body.

For some reason, the room was starting to get much warmer. Rayne figured that on a continent nearly made entirely out of ice he wouldn't feel like he needed some snow to cool him down. This position was awkward to say the least but the paladin didn't feel the least bit of embarrassment. Zariyana had shown in the last few moments that she was much more than her outstanding attitude would let on. His mind urged him to press forward and see if there was anything else hiding beneath the surface. The first thing he wanted to ask was also the most obvious but in order to do so, he needed to be a little clever about it.

"Your brother seemed a little shaken up the last time we met," he asked as the priest's hands continued to glide side to side in rhythmic fashion. "Is everything alright?"

"Please allow me to apologize on his behalf," she casually answered. "Samuel is not usual one to react in such a manner."

"Don't even worry about," Rayne quickly replied. "We all have tempers. Some of us have better control than others. I just wanted to make sure it hasn't escalated since."

It was a solid move on his part. He made sure to be equally as endearing as he was inquisitive. The room was silent for a few moments except for the rolling of bandages before the priest spoke once more.

"Is what I said the other day still troubling you?" She questioned the paladin. "Is that why you asked about the prior incident?"

Rayne was busted. He had forgotten that Zariyana had an extremely tact mind underneath that rough exterior. His body winced as a natural response. Given the situation, it made it appear that the priest had hurt him while tightly winding the bandage around his ribs which caused her to pause temporarily.

"I –," stammered the paladin stumbling over every single word imaginable in an attempt to find the right ones to dig himself out of this newly created hole. "It's just, that was rather unexpected to hear."

"Really?"

Her reply was more soft than curious. Zariyana carefully resumed dressing the wound. The way she presented it sounded rhetorical but after a few moments, she gently pressed the issue.

"What makes you say that Rayne?"

The paladin didn't expect her to probe further but since she asked, he obliged her simple request.

"Well, given the way you and your brother act around the rest of us," he calmly answered. "I never thought I'd ever see you open up like that."

The bandage roll stopped moving around Rayne's spine. Zariyana held it there in a moment. He couldn't see her face but from the way she reacted, those words had seemingly gotten to her once more.

"Samuel and I can be a bit blunt at times," she began. "That can easily be credited to our father. He is a very direct and concise individual. Everything was always about practicality and logic with him but he still explained it in a way that made sense to us. Growing up under that type of environment is how we learned to treat the rest of the world."

Rayne was quite shocked to hear the priest explain it in such a fashion. It was the first time she had ever opened up about her family and home life. However, if the paladin mentioned this little tidbit, she would probably counter with something along the lines of ' _you never asked'_. Before he could ponder the thought any longer, Zariyana finished answering.

"I swear, if he were any colder, he'd be easily mistaken him for a mage."

It was one thing to listening to her opening up, it was certainly another hearing her throw out a quip on top of it all.

"I'm sorry," the paladin softly began. "I had no idea."

"We both come from noble families Rayne," she quickly countered changing the tone of their conversation entirely. Zariyana resumed rolling the bandages around his body and posed another question to the paladin. "Weren't you raised in a similar environment?"

"Not exactly," he said with a short smile. "My father was very protective of me of course. However, never seemed to be overly controlling. He allowed me to find my own successes and failures and acted as more of an advisor rather than a ruler while I was growing up."

Rayne thought about it for a moment and tried to remember if there were any times where his father seemed overly controlling. One thought quickly came to mind and in an effort to match the priest's previous revelations, he attempted to alleviate the situation in similar fashion.

"Though, he can be rather strict when it comes to upholding manners. I tend to forget those more so than anything else it would seem."

"I don't think that's quite true," she replied. "Do you not remember the first night we met?"

The paladin's smile widened.

"How could I forget?"

It was during the Feast of Winter Viel. The kingdom of Lordaeron was hosting the annual ball for their noble families. This evening was a spectacle of lights, music, and of course, food. The second war was long over and the kingdom was finally getting used to some well-deserved peace.

Rayne was barely over the age of thirteen when he was allowed to attend this feast. Most children were put to bed early so their parents could enjoy the festivities to their full content without having to worry about young ones running about. The other children were there to mingle and perhaps even discuss courtships. Few, if any of them at all, actually participated in any events other than eating or dancing.

"You were standing along the edge of the hall towards the center of the dance floor wearing a black silk dress that shined brightly underneath the festive lights."

"Is that what first caught your eye about me?"

The way she asked that particular questions was somewhat coy and alluring, almost as if she was trying to hide how curious she was to know the answer.

Rayne shook his head slowly.

"It was your hair."

"My hair?"

The priest seemed like she was taken back by that answer. Perhaps she was expecting something a little more typical but if their history and memory serves them both well, the paladin was anything but.

"I had never seen anything like it," he nodded. "It was so radiant and shimmering, almost like the moon itself. All of the other girls wore theirs naturally down around their shoulders, like they were forced to come here. Yours, however, was hung up like a bride and beautifully styled as if you were the only one amongst them that actually cared about how they looked."

"Is that all?" She playfully asked in return.

"Well," he chuckled softly. "Silver is my favorite color so that also helped a little."

They both shared a quick laugh together. It was probably the first time they had done so for as long as either of them could remember.

Rayne continued to smile at the thought. The pain in his ribs had completely vanished as he became lost in the memories of that evening.

"We were both the same age but you looked so much more mature and regal than all of the others," he continued. "Perhaps that's why all of the boys were so intimidated by you that night."

With their parents busy conversing and mingling with other guests, most of the children sought out each other to dance to make the time pass more quickly. The evening was just about half over and Rayne noticed that out of all of the girls in attendance, the only one that no one had asked to join them on the dance floor was Zariyana. She stood in place the entire time like a statue with her eyes carefully pointed downwards not willing to look anyone in the eyes until spoken to first. Hours had passed and the young girl who was arguably the most elegant of the lot that evening stood strongly throughout it all.

"That didn't seem to bother you If I recall correctly," the priest added. "You were quite bold. None of the other children even troubled themselves to follow the proper courtship procedures and just dragged each other to the dance floor."

Unless you were an adult, children always had to receive permission from their parents before attending any event outside of their supervision. It was something both Rayne and Zariyana both learned and upheld with the greatest confidence.

"You, on the other hand, walked passed all of the other girls and presented yourself to my father. I had never seen anyone my age stand up to him with such confidence before. When you announced your name and intentions, I half-expected him to scold you in front of everyone. Perhaps he was equally as impressed with your courageousness as I was that evening. Even Samuel was aghast at the sight. I had never seen him with that expression before. It was quite the spectacle."

"It was nothing really," laughed the paladin. "I was just doing as I was taught by my father."

The Feast of Winter Veil was the first ball that Rayne had attended and his father had made sure to remind him of the proper etiquette as they dressed and traveled to the castle. The entire ride over, all he could think about was making sure to not embarrass himself or his father so he opted to keep to himself for the most part and just learn and observe so that he could be better prepared for the next. However, not even the paladin himself believed he would be taking such daring steps that evening and laying down the foundation for a long and fruitful friendship.

"Still, there were still plenty of others in attendance that were more popular with the other boys," she coolly stated. "Why did you only ask to dance with me that night?"

The paladin took a moment and really thought about the answer. It wasn't that he pitied her for being the only girl that wasn't asked to dance though that may be what the evidence suggested. What he felt that night was the same philosophy that helped form the Templar Knights themselves. It may not have started with Zariyana that evening but it was certainly a critical moment that led to their formation and current success.

"Honestly," he softly began. "It's because I really wanted to meet you."

The priest had stopped rolling the bandages once more. She must have been very curious about his answer and wanted to listen to him at full attention.

"I watched all of the other boys pass you by for most of the night. Some of them even walked through the tables to just avoid you. As time passed, I looked at all of the other girls the boys were bringing to the dance floor versus the only one that they hadn't noticed. It was as if they were happily mining for copper when there was a bright, vivid silver vein that they turned a blind eye to."

Rayne carefully pondered his next words. It had been so long since he last thought about that night and yet, the memories were as clear as if they were yesterday.

"I thought to myself, I just had to know what made this girl so unique and why everyone else was either too afraid or too callous to even speak with," he said happily. "I knew right then and there, she must be very special and I couldn't return home without at least paying her the respect of getting to know her even if for only a few moments."

The priest convulsed sharply behind him. Rayne quickly felt an odd sensation in his chest before his mind caught up to him. It may have been rare but he knew in that moment, he had heard the renowned Ice-Princess of the Templar Knights letting out a cut bout of laughter.

"A few moments?" She coyly smirked in response to the paladin's statement. "If I recall correctly, you didn't take your eyes nor hands off me for the remainder of the evening."

Rayne couldn't help but laugh. It was the first time his body had felt good enough to do anything but sulk in far too long.

" _If I recall correctly_ ," he countered. "Someone wouldn't allow me to look anywhere nor touch anyone else for the rest of the night."

They both laughed together once more. The paladin never knew this side of Zariyana but he welcomed it with open arms. She may have carried a thick layer of armor but her inner beauty was equal, if not greater than what was presented.

"And…?" She continued to pry while the bandage roll teetered on the edge of completion. "Were you satisfied with your findings?"

Rayne paused for a moment. He thought deeply about how to reply in a way to convey his feelings properly. Zariyana was not only a trusted ally and a sister of the light, but also, a dear and treasured friend. He learned a lot about her that one evening during Winter Veil through his daring first introduction. Now he learned even more with the priest's own equally bold actions. Another opportunity like this one may never present itself. The paladin needed to speak from the heart. It has only failed him once thus far but fortune favors the bold as he has heard on several separate occasions.

"Yes," he proudly stated. "Now more than ever."

The priest folded the end of the bandage into the other tightened layers. She gently tapped him on the shoulder and slowly pushed herself off the bed.

"All done."

Zariyana walked towards the end of the bed. Her eyes were set on the door but a heaping pile of armor had quickly drawn her attention. She let out a soft sigh while channeling a cloud of white energy in her palm.

"You certainly cannot present yourself to Lord Templar wearing this scrap."

Her hand reached down and tapped the pile of carefully crafted silver and gold plates. They began levitating off of the ground and hovered just around her waist level. Their mass was being held by the priest's simple incantation. With a gentle touch she easily glided them towards the door.

"I'll have the smith repair these for you immediately and return with them as soon as they're ready."

"But Zari," pleaded the paladin as he turned to face her. "You don't have to –"

The priest didn't even acknowledge his words. Her back was turned to him as the door opened. She stepped through the doorway and stopped just outside. Zariyana reached out and seized the handle. With her eyes still looking forward, she called out to him once more.

"Hey Rayne," she began speaking softer than he had ever heard her utter in the entirety of their relationship.

"Yes?"

His tone was calmer as to match hers. The paladin had no idea what she was about to ask but the tickle in his chest was greatly anticipating her next words.

"Do you think it's possible for someone who is enamored on one idea," she said while keeping her composure cool and clear as always. "To perhaps be able to change and embrace something else instead?"

Rayne drew backwards slowly. That was an odd way to word a question but knowing Zariyana, it was crafted in her mind with the utmost care. He thought about it for a moment. Until a couple of months ago, he had believed in only a few things. Never before would he have ever considered himself to be in the unique position now with all of the trials, tribulations, and experiences that have been wrought upon him. They've battled the Horde, fought Titanic Watchers, and challenged the wrath of an Old God himself. There was only one answer that could come to mind and the paladin was happy to give it.

"After everything we've been through," he said brightly. "I believe anything's possible."

The door shut behind the priest without another word. He was still harboring some confusion over why she would pose such a question and whether she was asking about herself or perhaps even someone else.


	4. Chapter 3

_The Raynewood Orphanage_

 _Ashenvale_

Cayden walked along the beaten dirt path leading north towards a small hill. It had only been a few weeks since he last visited this place but the lush green fields, rolling peaks, and deliciously fresh air were all too foreign given where he currently resided. It was yet another reason why it seemed painfully obvious why Rayne enjoyed spending his free time in this place.

The young mage took a deep breath as his nerves began to tingle. He knew exactly what he must do. However, the circumstances and recent history did not make the task easy. No one has heard from nor even seen Narula since the events that transpired after Ulduar. Lord Templar and his army had just been transported to Dalaran moments earlier by Cayden himself. Now, he sought to complete the last part of his assignment by retrieving their final comrade. Oddly enough, escorting this one person seemed to be much more difficult than the near two thousand prior.

A harsh chill tickled his spine as the mage reached the top of the risen path. The large house was now clearly in view. Even though Cayden preferred manipulating the burning elements of the flame, his body never felt more cold.

Sounds of youth and innocence radiated from the nearby yard. Gaggles of children roamed harmlessly about playing with one another. They kicked balls, climbed trees, and even battled one another using small mechanical beasts in a crudely constructed arena surrounded by rocks of various sizes. Though these orphans were lacking only one crucial thing, you'd never be able to tell they held any sorrow in their hearts from the way they smiled and laughed.

Cayden arrived at the door seemingly unnoticed by the busy children. He lowered his hood for good measure as if anyone sneaking a glance in his direction might be initially frightened over his maniacally decorated fiery robes. The mage enjoyed another deep breath. He gulped heavily has his hand rose to eye level. It flicked twice cracking against the sturdy wooden barrier and announced his arrival to the residents inside.

Thick metal plates stormed forward from inside the house. The mage raised an eyebrow while clenching his fist in anticipation. He didn't know of any armored denizen residing at the orphanage but wanted to be prepared for any surprises that may spring forth.

The door quickly swung open. Cayden took a step back and looked at the empty home staring back at him. His curiosity spiked peering forth searching for the one who created the pathway. Given the sounds he had just heard, perhaps the paladin had designed and built some kind of new engineering device that automatically identifies travelers and opens the door to friendly guests upon arrival when the host is otherwise busy. Rather ingenious to say the least but it still didn't answer the mage's question.

"Excuse me," a mechanized drawl called from below. "May I be of some assistance?"

Cayden darted his gaze downward. A mechanical gnome shining made of brass and steel stared back at him with glowing orange eyes. The mage instantly sulked where he stood, cursing his mind for reaching out for such wild thoughts and not even considering the obvious. He had seen Jeeves, the mechanized gnome butler Rayne had built on the last time he visited this place.

"My name is Cayden Melton," he stated to the creature. "I'm here to see Narula."

The mage wondered why he was being so formal to a construct but for some reason, the way they conversed made him instinctively treat this otherwise lifeless being with respect.

"Miss Dawngrove," the mechanical gnome calmly called. "You have a visitor."

"Thank you Jeeves," a soft voice answered. "Please show them in."

The door opened wider and revealed the kitchen where the night elf stood with her back facing the entrance. She was wearing a simple blue dress with a thick cotton apron adorned with colors and stains from meals long since passed. Her radiant purple hair hung softly across her shoulders and shined in the light of the nearby window.

Narula was just about done drying the last of a large assortment of plates and silverware. She stacked them neatly in a pile and lifted the apron from her neck. It was gently placed atop the dry dishes as she turned to face the mage.

"Welcome Cayden," she smiled. "Please, make yourself at home."

The mage's heart thumped inexplicably. He didn't expect such a warm greeting. All of his interactions with the night elf have been in the company of his fellow guildmates. This was the first time he had been alone with Narula since joining the Templar Knights. Cayden's guard was usually much higher knowing some of the others were nowhere near as kind. However, the night elf's beauty seemed to radiate tenfold in this environment. It was no wonder why Rayne was so smitten and subsequently made his task increasingly more difficult to complete.

"T-Thank you Narula!"

Cayden found difficulty using even the simplest of words in response. The stuttering that followed was just another sign of both his youth and inexperience. He stepped inside and approached the table where the night elf leisurely walked towards.

"Would you like anything to drink?" She softly asked.

The mage feverishly shook his head. This would be a lot easier if she wasn't so painfully pleasant. The fact that Narula had deliberately crushed the paladin's heart sending him into a trance of absolute sorrowfulness didn't even seem to register.

"I appreciate the offer Narula," he replied. "However…"

Cayden steeled himself. Despite their being an air of awkwardness hovering in a thick cloud over his head, the night elf was completely unfazed. The mage knew he had to be strong and present himself proudly.

"I am here on a matter of guild business," he stated.

Narula didn't even so much as wince. Either her resolve was uncanny or she truly wasn't bothered by the events that transpired between her and the paladin.

The night elf stared back at him curiously awaiting Cayden's announcement.

"Lord Templar has received a summons by Highlord Tirion Fordring. He requests the presence of the Templar Knights tomorrow morning."

Cayden took a breath before finishing his statement. This was harder than he originally thought but certainly going better than he hoped. At least, it was so far.

"I was asked to come here to escort you to Dalaran in preparation for the meeting."

Narula's gaze never left his for a moment. She stared deeply at him with her gleaming silver eyes and soft glowing amber irises without so much as a flinch.

"Was it at Lord Templar's request?"

The way the night elf carefully worded and sharply delivered that question nearly forced Cayden to take a step back. He could tell Narula was attempting to probe him for more information while subtly asking about their leader's well-being. She was being very coy but at least didn't shy away from wanting to know the full truth.

The mage painfully nodded. If she saw the dejected look on the paladin's face when he heard the news, even the night elf's stern resolve may have waned even if for just a brief moment.

"I will make the necessary arrangements," replied Narula. "Please have a seat. It shall only take a few moments."

The night elf walked past Cayden without another look. She exited the house and made her way down the dirt path towards the village just a short distance away. Someone was going to have to look over the children while she was away and the villagers were always happy to assist her since she provided a generous and much needed service in these harrowing times.

Cayden stood in awe. She didn't bat an eye nor even mention the paladin's name once. Something was definitely a miss. Her behavior may have seemed normal to the untrained eye but the night elf's response was very formulaic, almost robotic even. Whether she was putting up an unwavering front or Rayne's previous declaration and subsequent rejection had no effect on Narula still remained unanswered.

At the very least, the night elf was doing her very best to proceed as normal. She always had an air of grace and elegance to her. One would be hard pressed to determine that she was one of the most powerful members of the Templar Knights from her reserved and otherwise pleasant demeanor. Whatever the Highlord was requesting, Cayden knew they were going to need her strength now more than ever. He only hoped that she was equally as willing for the challenges that awaited them and not putting up a ruse to protect herself and others from the unpleasantness of their current situation.

The mage pulled out a chair and took a seat. He muddled over the scenarios that would soon present themselves when Rayne and Narula inevitably met once again. The night elf was clearly attempting to be professional about it. Whether or not their leader could do the same was yet to be seen. If the light was truly on their side, it would spare Cayden from bearing witness to any more awkward moments.

Given his relatively young experience and the current air mulling about, luck was not on their side.

* * *

 _The Silver Enclave_

 _Dalaran_

Things were unusually quiet inside of the Alliance stronghold. Rayne stood in the main hall in-front of the giant siege engine sitting below a marvelous marble statue depicting one of the most famed and beloved high elves in recent history, Vereesa Windrunner. Unfortunately for the paladin, some memories are sweeter than others.

The last time he entered this building was during the initial planning for the siege of Wintergrasp. The Silver Covenant aided the Templar Knights and provided them safe lodging and planning for the attack. It seemed like ages ago but no one, especially Rayne himself, was quick to forget the harrowing battle that took place that morning.

The location was chosen by Lord Templar himself. Since the Templar Knights were an Alliance faction, it would make sense that their meeting take place within these safely guarded halls. The Silver Covenant did not take kindly to the Horde's presence in Dalaran. Even using the word tolerate would be too strong for their tastes. When the paladin's father asked to utilize this specific building, they graciously were welcomed with open arms. No one was going to deny a request from the father of the Champion of Wintergrasp.

"How much longer is the old man going to keep us standing around?" The gnome scoffed.

"Dalaran's a big place," shrugged the warrior. "If everyone ran as quick as your mouth, no one would have to wait for anything."

Rayne smiled at the harsh banter between his two companions. Marcus and Weasel were the only ones available to accompany him this morning; not that they needed to be present here anyways. Ademski and Saelena were enjoying a well deserved break from activity at the Argent Tournament grounds. They were going to meet them tomorrow morning at the Argent Vanguard. Cayden was gathering the only other member of their guild who didn't reside in Northrend currently. Even thinking about her name snapped at Rayne's heart, however, he learned to quickly sooth that wound with the thought of the upcoming task at hand.

The only absence that puzzled the paladin was that of the twin priests Samuel and Zariyana. While the male Legend twin could easily be accounted for, either studying or frankly not wanting to be bothered with a simple get together between father and son, Zariyana's presence was oddly absent. Rayne heard a knock on his door about an hour ago and upon opening, his newly repaired and finely polished armor was sitting in neat pile in front of him. He at least wanted to thank her personally and pay for the services rendered. Whoever mended these plates did some of the most immaculate work Rayne had ever seen. It glimmered as if nary a drip of sweat nor blood had ever graced its surface. He sincerely wanted to show his gratitude towards the female priest but unfortunately hadn't seen since their last encounter.

Thunderous footsteps echoed from outside of the building's entrance. All of the members of the Silver Enclave turned their attention south towards the open pathway. A large cloth battle standard depicting a crimson red cross over a bold white background was being held by the lead soldier. He, as well as the many others behind him carried that same crest on their tabards hanging in front of their solid steel armor. They marched through the halls gallantly as they approached Rayne and his companions.

Surrounding a squad of officers in the center was the grand noble Lord Templar himself. He wore ornate cloth robes as dark as the night's sky adorned with similar crests of his namesake. Thick tufts of pearly white hair hung along his chin but were noticeably absent from his scalp. Despite his growing age, there was no one more cunning or shrewd than Nigel Templar. He once allied hundreds of blacksmiths to aid the cause of their king against the first orcish invasion and ensured the forces of Loredaeron were able to repel their further advance into their beloved kingdom. All of the members of the Silver Enclave knew the name Templar was one to be respected just as it was then and especially now more than ever.

The soldiers stopped in formation in the center of the main hall. There must have been two hundred men bearing the Templar crest in this room which still only represented a fraction of their total fighting force. They quickly parted and marched to the side in unison allowing Lord Templar and the Captain of their army who stood beside him, the stern yet intimidating Captain Lena Sherwood passage to move ahead.

Lena looked as sharp as ever. Her raven black hair was tied tightly in a ponytail much like the paladin's. However, that is where their similarities ended. Her armor was rough and battle-worn, carrying the scars of every single encounter since arriving on this frozen continent. When asked, the Captain would usually state that she was too busy training or working to get it repaired but Rayne knew that she liked the way it made her look more imposing during combat.

Lord Templar and Lena approached the paladin quickly. They stood before him as their army watched on in silence.

"Raymond," Nigel calmly said.

"Father," the paladin answered back.

A smile trickled up the old man's face. He placed both hands atop Rayne's spaulders and squeezed them tightly.

"I always knew you were destined to do great things," he declared. "It is in your blood."

Lord Templar gripped him even tighter. He may have been leagues older than the paladin but his strength was far from gone.

"However, never have I fathomed hearing about such incredible accomplishments as you have achieved in such a short period of time."

The paladin's heart pulsed. It was rare enough to hear words of praise coming from his father, especially after their initial meeting in Light's Hope Chapel. This, on the other hand, was above and beyond anything he had received prior. The look of adulation in Lord Templar's eyes was the first of its kind.

"I have never been more proud of you Raymond," he proudly stated. "You have grown to be more than what I could have ever imagined you being from the very moment I laid eyes upon you. If this is what awaits us today, I eagerly anticipate what the future holds for you."

Rayne was at a loss of words. This praise was not only unfamiliar but almost seemed uncalled for. Perhaps the weight of their accomplishments had been since marred but other distressing thoughts but even this seemed a bit much. All his life, Lord Templar stood over Rayne dolling out advice and imparting wisdom whenever it was needed. However, for the first time in their relationship, it appeared as if he was actually looking up to the paladin, revering him like a commoner would a legendary champion.

"Thank you father."

The words painfully cleared Rayne's throat. It was all he could muster in response.

"Yeesh kid," sighed the warrior. "I'm about to blush for you."

Marcus' quick witty interlude snapped the paladin out of his previous trance. A sudden glaring though had entered his mind. This was the first time his father had met any member of the Templar Knights outside of the Legend twins.

"My apologies father," he interjected. "Allow me to introduce you to some of my closest allies."

The paladin turned his hand over towards his left where the burly warrior stood.

"This is Marcus Bloodblade."

"Bloodblade?" Lord Templar inquisitively probed. "I've heard that name before, during the war."

He looked the warrior up and down. Even though they were on the coldest continent in Azeroth, Marcus wore very little armor; Only a single spaulder sat on his left shoulder with a few plates running down his bicep and forearm as well as some legplates and a pair of steel greaves. If he could stand this harsh environment bare chested then perhaps he was as tough as the rumors have led everyone to believe.

"I imagined you to be a bit older."

"Some of us start out younger than others," grinned Marcus.

"He's got the hair of an old man," the gnome chimed in. "I can say that with absolutely certainty."

"Weasel!" The warrior angrily snapped in response.

Of all of the buttons one could press to trigger his rage, nothing set Marcus off quicker than pointing out his baldness.

"And this," interrupted Rayne while poorly attempting to hold back a smile. "Is my other companion."

The paladin gestured downwards and out of respect for his companion's secrecy, opted not to use his real name.

"We call him Weasel."

"Charmed I'm sure," the gnome dejectedly replied.

"Now that is a name I have not heard of," laughed the elder Templar. "However, if half of the stories Lena has told me are true, I'm sure you have been a vital part of Raymond's success."

"Praised by Captain Tight-ass?" Weasel asked raising a thick eyebrow upwards. "I guess there really is a first time everythi – "

The gnome's words were cut off by a gross yelp of sheer torment. Lena dug her heel atop the front of his leather boot and nearly crushed all of his tiny toes underneath it's hefty weight.

"Watch it runt," she cursed through her teeth barely above a whisper.

The Captain had to keep her composure in front of both the soldiers and Lord Templar himself but that didn't mean she couldn't sneak in some dearly deserved payback.

They may seem unconventional at first but both Rayne and his father knew their skills and abilities were worth the praise given. The paladin couldn't have come this far without them and certainly didn't want to go on without their support from here on out. Their rough exteriors and sordid pasts notwithstanding, there was no one Rayne enjoyed putting his faith in than these two right here.

"Lord Templar," called another voice.

Everyone turned their attention to the approaching visitor. Arcanist Braedin met with the paladin and his father in the main hall. He was draped in the same violet battle regalia as he was the last time he and Rayne had met.

"You honor us with your presence," he said. "I am Arcanist Braedin. We have prepared a room to continue your discussion in private as requested. If you'd follow me."

Braedin lead the group just ahead where a row of doors lined the circular walled room. He approached the nearest one and quickly opened it. It was a small meeting room no larger than ten feet wide and twenty feet deep. A single table surrounded by wooden chairs sat in the center. The Arcanist politely ushered them inside and when they had all filed in, took one last look at them.

"If there is nothing else you need," he stated.

"We won't be long," Lord Templar replied. "Thank you very much for your gracious hospitality."

"Please excuse me, Lord Templar," the Arcanist nodded while shutting the door behind him.

"Everyone, please sit," directed Nigel.

They all did as instructed, pulling out their chairs in unison and taking their seat at the table. Lord Templar sat directly across from the paladin with Lena to his left. Marcus and Weasel were on opposing sides of their leader and took this moment to relax a little bit now that the pleasantries had been taken care of.

Before the air in this room grew too uncomfortable, Rayne broke the silence.

"Forgive me father but I must ask," he began. "What are you doing here?"

The elder Templar's expression tightened. That question may have struck a nerve but it had been plaguing the paladin's thoughts for the last two days and he desperately sought an answer to alleviate this burden.

"I know my presence here is unexpected," started Lord Templar. His tone was deep but with a touch of concern. "However, can you forgive an old man for being a bit excited when hearing such wonderful news?"

"Father," sighed Rayne. "I meant no – "

"Surely you can empathize with my position," the old man interrupted. "From the moment I began raising you, I have made it my duty to ensure that you were brought up in a manner worthy of your blood."

Lord Templar leaned back into his chair. His arms folded across his chest as he stared deeply back at the paladin with a tinge of annoyance.

"Hearing about your initial follies when you first arrived here made my heart grow with contempt. I had thought everything I had done up until that point was all for naught."

The old man loosened his arms. Both hands folded together atop of the table with each finger intertwined. His tone grew dark and serious.

"You have no idea of the sacrifices I have made and that I have asked of others to ensure your safety and well-being. They were tough but necessary decisions to ensure you followed the correct path."

Rayne pulled back for a moment. The way his father was speaking was as if he was going through a lifetime of memories in the blink of an eye. Only the moments that warranted such feelings came to light. It forced the paladin to reminisce about his own motives at the time. They were certainly selfish but the intentions were always good. Looking at it in that light made him quickly realize how many evil beings justified their deeds from that simple notion.

"However," the elder Templar stated with a smile rising from his face. "I was pleased to hear that my efforts as well as your own had proven fruitful. The victory at Wintergrasp was a great feat in and of itself but defeating an Old God, by the light Raymond… That is how legends are born."

The weight of his father's praised sat heavily in the paladin's mind. While each of those battles were monuments achievements in their own right, they were both marred with terrible memories that he still hoped to overcome.

"There are many more great things that await you Raymond," Lord Templar finished. "I cannot wait to see what the future holds for your next."

"T – Thank you father," stammered Rayne.

"You hear that kid?" The warrior grinned. "Thing's are always looking up. There's no need to look so gloomy."

"Hey!" Weasel chirped. "No helping! You're breaking the terms of our agreement."

"What are those two bozo's babbling about Rayne?" Lena cut in asking with both morbid curiosity and a trace of irritation.

"It's nothing," he calmly answered.

It wasn't like he could exactly be forthright and tell either of them what had transpired between Narula and himself. Rayne had sought out his father's wisdom for many subjects throughout the course of his life but never did either of them touch upon matters of the heart. Anytime that subject came to light, it appeared that Lord Templar would do his best to avoid it. As big of a concern as it was to his well-being lately, that wasn't the most important thing on the paladin's mind this afternoon.

Rayne did not believe he was worthy of such kind words. His father had given him everything he needed in life to succeed. Rayne felt as if his father deserved more of the praise above all else. His mind drifted back to the night that was so recent and yet seemed so distant. He was sitting under the tree in Wintergrasp on the eve of their battle with Narula under the pale moonlight. The words he uttered then replayed in his mind over and over again.

 _I never wanted to become a hero but before I knew it, I had already become one._

Rayne continued to struggle with his purpose in life. He knew he wanted to help people but never could he have imagined the incredible deeds and accomplishments he would achieve in such a short period of time. Many people were not only cheering him on but counted on his continued success for their own comfort and security. If things continued as they have been, the paladin may no longer have a say in that matter. Duty always came first.

"Also, I have something for you."

The old man changed pace rather quickly which was much unlike the father the paladin had known growing up. He seemed much too eager.

"This is the true purpose of my coming here today. Your young magus friend had told me you lost your previous weapon in your last encounter."

"Yea," the gnome chimed. "Come to think of it. What happened to that big red sword of yours? I didn't even notice it was missing when we got out of that saronite stinking dump."

"That makes two of us," added Marcus as he sulked back in his chair. "Don't tell me you fought that slimy freak of nature with your bare hands?"

Everyone at the table had their eyes locked upon the paladin. Rayne looked upon each of them as their curiosity swelled with anticipation. Going over the details of his encounter with the young elf wasn't something he cared to muddle over at this present time.

"It's," he softly smiled. "A long story."

"That's your answer for everything," scoffed Weasel.

His father smiled in response. Rayne always had a way of avoiding uncomfortable topics but so long as he was happy, Lord Templar would be content.

"Be that as it may, I cannot send you to meet the Highlord without being fitted for battle now can I?" The old man posed while motioning towards the Captain. "Lena, if you will."

"Yes sir!" She quickly answered.

From underneath her cloak, Lena stood up and procured a long scabbard with a hefty sword fitted within. It had a sharp red hilt that was fashioned to look like the very crest of the Templar army. This weapon used to hang proudly above Lord Templar's bed for years. It was revered by many as one of the finest weapons ever forged but never actually seeing a battle itself.

"The blade of the Templar?" Rayne gasped. "Father, but why?"

"I have been keeping this weapon in our home for far too long," answered the elder Templar. "It deserves to be wielded and finally, I have found someone worthy enough to be the first."

"Another sword?"

Rayne had his reservations about wielding this weapon. As a paladin he preferred a mace but his skills with a blade were equal, if not greater than all others. However, no matter how good he was, it still didn't sooth his conscious to take up another one of these so quickly even if it was a treasured family heirloom.

"The tool used is of little importance," his father countered. "Whether their skin is green or gray, enemies must be defeated and champions will rise."

Lord Nigel may have lived through the first two grueling wars between the Alliance and Horde but he was showing his ignorance when it came to actual combat. A weapon can make all of the difference between victory and defeat. It is not only a tool for combat but also a symbol to all others of the brave souls that inspire them.

"It's not just that father," responded the paladin. "This blade has been displayed in our home for as long as I can remember. After all this time, I believed it to be simply ornamental."

"Ornamental?"

The old man's anger swelled with that nigh offensive comment.

"This blade was crafted by the finest smiths in Azeroth," he remarked. "It was forged with the rarest of steels and masterly crafted to bear our crest upon its hilt. I would never send you into battle with a mere decoration."

Rayne cursed himself for being too hasty with his words but it pleased him to see his father could still react sternly despite all of his previous praise.

"Take it Raymond," his father begged. "Use it at your leisure until perhaps you find something more suitable to your needs. I only ask that you return it to me personally when you are finished."

"Thank you father," the paladin replied while carefully taking the scabbard in his possession. "You honor me greatly."

"I mean it Raymond," Lord Templar grimly stated. "I will not accept this blade from anyone's hands but your own."

The change in tone made the air grow thick in this room. Rayne gave but a single nod in response. They didn't need words to convey their feelings. The paladin knew what his father meant without having to probe further. He may have been a stern old man but his sharpness was rivaled by no one.

Time had passed quicker than anyone had realized. With their business seemingly concluded, it was time to gather the rest of the Knights and prepare for tomorrow's journey. This was only just the beginning. The paladin was happy to continue on a much higher note than originally anticipated.

"Unfortunately, we must take our leave. Thank you for visiting father," said Rayne while standing from his seat. "It was good to see you again."

"The feeling is mutual Raymond," the old man smiled. "I leave our entire army in your capable hands to do with as you see fit. Good luck on your journey. I am graciously awaiting the news of your next victory."

The paladin nodded and smiled. He motioned for his companions to take their leave. Marcus and Weasel made no comments as they approached the exit. Lord Templar also gave a quick gesture towards Lena to follow them. She stood up quickly, saluted and followed the other too out the door. However, Rayne found it rather strange that his father did not move from his seat.

"Father, are you staying?"

"Actually, that is not the only reason why I am here," he replied. "An emissary came to visit me this morning. I have another meeting scheduled in a few moments."

"Really?" The paladin raised an eyebrow. "With who?"

"I thought you knew about this," his father quizzically replied. "They are friends of yours, aren't they?"

* * *

 _Runeweaver Square_

 _Dalaran_

"Samuel!" Shouted the female priest. "Wait, you can't do this."

The male Legend twin stopped in his tracks near the fountain that had become quite the tourist attraction for visitors and adventurers alike. It was a little less busy than usual but with the sun beginning to set, mostly everyone opted for a more scenic sight towards the edge of the city until the marvelous lights illuminated at this location. While normally these two would keep their personal affairs private, Samuel felt no need to keep his emotions hidden. That was the key element to his plan.

"I cannot?" He snapped back while turning to face his sister. "It has already been done. Father has given his blessing."

"No!" She angrily countered. "You cannot go off and decide how I'm going to live the rest of my life."

"This was not my decision," Samuel fired back. "Or do you not recall your own words a mere two days ago?"

Zariyana took a step back. She'd never seen her brother so fired up before. It was unbecoming of him and yet, the female priest was powerless to do anything but listen.

"That was – "

"Did you truly mean what you said or was that statement made merely in jest?"

His words rocked Zariyana down to her core. Expressing intimate emotions in the comfort of one's own home was one thing but here they were completely exposed. Nobles didn't behave this way normally and this was certainly not the way the Legend twins were brought up. Something was incredibly off with Samuel but she couldn't find the words to express it. That is the product of their environment after all.

The female priest bit her lip while dropping her gaze downward. She couldn't believe her brother was acting so uncouth now of all times. Zariyana was desperate to give her a piece of his mind. She lifted her head up. Her eyes, filled with determination, scowled at her twin ready to end this once and for all.

The words never found their way to her throat. Instead, she gasped as just over her brother's shoulder she caught a familiar pair approaching them. Zariyana wouldn't dare utter her thoughts now. Not in front of him and especially not in front of _her_.

Samuel easily read the distress in his sister's expression. He turned quickly and found the mage Cayden Melton standing with an unfamiliar companion in these parts, Narula Dawngrove. She was dressed in that familiar purple leather regalia that she often took into combat. Apparently, word had traveled fast about the Templar Knight's summoning and despite all that has transpired, still saw it fit to attend. This was working out better than he had hoped.

"Hello Narula," greeted the male Legend twin.

"Samuel," smiled the night elf as she quickly turned her attention towards his sister. "Zariyana. It is good to see you both."

"Likewise," Samuel stated. He prepared his next words carefully in order to move towards the next stage in his plan. "Off on another mundane tour Flame Brain?"

"Hey!" The mage barked while holding his composure a bit better than usual when hearing those words being uttered at his expense. "We're not on a tour. I was just escorting Narula to her room for the night."

"Is that so?" Probed the male priest almost rhetorically. "Well, have a good evening."

Samuel motioned for his sister with a quick nod.

"Come along Zariyana, we mustn't be late."

"Wait," Cayden replied. "Where are you two going in such a hurry?"

The male Legend twin turned his full attention towards Narula. His deep gold eyes stared deeply into hers. Without wavering, he continued.

"My father has scheduled an audience for us with Lord Templar," he stated. "He has agreed to arrange a marriage between Rayne and Zariyana once the campaign in Northrend is at an end."

Samuel's eyes never left the night elf's. He probed deeply waiting for the precise moment in which she would flinch and reveal her true feelings. This was a bold move but given all other options, it was the only one that may prove to find the results he was looking for. The growing silence between them forced the male twin to up the ante.

"That doesn't pose a concern nor problem to either of you," he snidely added. "Would it?"

Surprisingly, Narula's expression didn't change in the slightest. It appears the priest's heavy declaration had little effect on her at all. She simply returned with a soft smile as she normally would.

"Please give my regards to Lord Templar."

The night elf turned towards her companion.

"Cayden, where is the inn you mentioned earlier?"

"Right!" The mage replied painfully snapping back into reality. "It's just over this way. If you'd follow me."

They left the twin priests just as quick as they came. Samuel turned as they passed fixing his gaze back on the night elf once more. He continued to wait for her to give up something, anything that would prove his theory to be correct. They were starting to get lost in the crowd leaving the plaza before his sister violently took hold of his arm and grasped his attention.

"What is the matter with you?!" She scowled. "Why would you say such a thing? You know how – "

"It's not right, isn't it?" He interrupted.

"What do you mean?"

Samuel clenched his fist. He was a creature of knowledge and understanding. The world was full of mysterious that were just waiting to be solved. This one, on the other hand, should have been answered long ago. The fact that the resolution did not match the priest's findings irked at him in ways few things rarely did.

"Something is off about her behavior," he answered. "And I intend to find out why."


	5. Chapter 4

_The Argent Vanguard_

 _Icecrown_

A cold morning mist washed over the dull teal landscape. The grey hue of Icecrown sent chills upon the spines of all soldiers and adventurers alike that dared travel through it. Members of the Argent Vanguard knew no such fear. They established this forward base right at the very foothold of the Lich King's territory. The war against the Scourge had gone on for far too long. They didn't just settle here as a military strategic location; this was to send a direct message to Arthas that they weren't afraid and they would soon be coming for him.

The griffons touched down onto the snow-filled roosts. Their flight was short but seemed to go on for ages. The surrounding view and scenery wasn't anything to marvel at. It reminded everyone of the stories they originally heard from the first expedition to this continent. If hell were ever to freeze over, this would certainly be it.

The forward base was a rather impressive site given its hastily construction. Stone walls and towers lined the outskirts protection the hundreds of encampments lying within. Soldiers donning the proud white, black, and gold tabard of the Argent Vanguard moved about the area without a wasted breath. The seriousness of their situation was lost on no man within these walls. They were all prepared to do what they must in order to protect their home and loved ones from the threat of evil incarnate himself.

Rayne quickly hopped off the griffon's saddle. His greaves sunk into the snowy ground with a slow but satisfying plop. The other Knight's followed suit. Much like the paladin, they were donned in full battle regalia ready for any new challenge that may present itself this morning. Even in this harsh environment, Marcus never saw it fit to wear any more armor than was absolutely necessary.

"Yeesh it's cold today," scoffed the gnome. His words trailed in a puffy white cloud just outside of his lips. "I'm freezing my cogs out here."

"Always have to start something with that mouth of yours," the warrior begrudgingly sighed. "We've just landed. Can't you just stifle it for one damn minute?"

"If my skin were as thick as your head, I'd happily go bare chested and flaunt my goods too."

"Please do not may any references to your grotesque figure again Fun Size," Samuel remarked.

"I agree as well," his sister added. "I'd like to keep our breakfast inside where it belongs."

"Calm down princess," shrugged the gnome. "I know what gets you all hot and bothered now."

"Excuse me?" The female twin scornfully replied.

"Give me a few more weeks and I'll almost be as wealthy as big blondie over here," Weasel countered while jabbing his thumb in the paladin's direction. "A few modifications, some hair dye, and presto! I'll have you swooning in no time."

Zariyana made a move forward with a contemptuous look up on her brow ready to give the smallest member of their guild the biggest piece of her mind yet. However, she was immediately halted in her tracks by the more calm and resolute member of her bloodline.

"There isn't enough gold in Azeroth to reduce my sister to your minuscule level."

The gnome shrugged once more seemingly unfazed by the previous comment.

"As they say, it's not the size of the coin purse but shop you're spending it at."

The paladin smiled. His companions were in usual but still good spirits. He was glad to see things have calmed down since the last time they were all together. Thankfully, Narula was running a few minutes late to spare her the explanation of recent events. The air was already thick enough as is in this frozen continent. There was no need to make it awkward as well. Cayden promised to bring her as soon as he could. At least, it would move their upcoming and presumably uncomfortable reconciliation from the streets in Dalaran to a more serious location. Perhaps it would help them both move past it quickly and quietly.

Rayne took a few steps forward and peered west just beyond the mountains. Peaking from the center of the misty landscape was the dreaded spire known as Icecrown Citadel. The Lich King has resided inside of that fortress for years. Only few have gone near the outskirts of it and have lived to tell the tale. All of the lives that have been lost during the conflict would not be soon forgotten. The fact that the Argent Vanguard set up their forward base this close was a sheer testament to their bravery.

With the few minutes they had to spare to gather themselves, the paladin ushered away any intimidating thoughts and focused on the present. The Templar Knights were called here today for a very specific reason. It was an honor for anyone to serve the Argent Vanguard but to be summoned by its leader personally was beyond all comprehension. Just a few months ago, Rayne was underneath the boot of a Horde soldier just north of here under the vague guise of incompetence. Now, he was being asked to meet the famed Highlord Tirion Fordring himself. As the paladin had once heard, life does not always go the way one plans. He certainly learned that the hard way just two short weeks ago but was slowly learning to cope with it since.

The moments passed quickly but Cayden and Narula were still nowhere to be found. However, it quickly reminded Rayne of another missing pair from their guild that promised to be here upon arrival. The paladin scoured the area briefly looking for what should have been a very simple find. They were the two tallest members of the guild after all.

"Hey guys," called Rayne while continued to search. "Have any of you seen – "

"Rayne Templar!"

The paladin turned and immediately gasped as he was seized in a righteous bear hug by his fellow paladin and trusted companion Ademski. The draenei's strength was remarkable but his tact and discretion still needed some work. He continued to squeeze Rayne and even lifted him off the ground in excitement.

"How are you doing my friend?"

Words could not fight their way through the paladin's throat. Ademski may not have realized it but he was applying pressure to a sore but thankfully almost healed wound. Rayne was trying to fight it without allowing the newfound agony to change his expression. Unfortunately, it was a battle he was quickly destined to lose.

"Let him down you oaf!"

Ademski released him instantaneously. The paladin collapsed almost to a knee while letting out a few desperate coughs. Thankfully, the pain subsided quickly. His savior approached him. The female priest put a hand on his spaulder and assisted him back up to an upright and standing position.

"My apologies Templar," defended the dranei. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine," Rayne said through a muffled cough. "It's good to see you too Ademski."

"Have you not recovered fully from our previous battle?"

The draenei made a move to speak once more but was silenced by the stiff elbow of his loving wife Saelena. Even though she couldn't speak, the hunter knew how to communicate with her husband in a way words could never match.

Rayne rolled his shoulders and allowed the rhythmic slapping of the armored plates to confirm he was okay. He turned his gaze towards the female priest. A look of deep concern was washed over her face.

"Thanks Zari," he said quietly. "I'm okay."

"Be more careful next time," she sighed. "You shouldn't let this clod manhandle you like that while you're still recovering."

"Clod?" Ademski curiously probed. "What is clod?"

He quickly shifted his eyes towards the female draenei.

"Am I a clod? Is that bad?"

Saelena made no effort to placate the insult any further. She simply placed a hand upon her husband's armored shoulder and disappointingly shook her head.

"Hey big blue," Marcus interjected while slamming a stiff but playful fist into the draenei's breastplate. "How was your vacation?"

"Our time at the Argent Tournament was very good!" Ademski answered with a big grin. "The entertainment was exhilarating and the ale never stopped flowing. Plus, it was good to see everyone getting along together despite what differences we may have."

"I bet that was hard for you most of all," Marcus teased.

"How did you – "

Before he could finish, Saelena made a few gestures with her hands and finished with a soft sigh while shaking her head once more.

"Are you saying he almost jumped from the stands and into the battlefield during a spat with one of the combatants?" The male priest calmly inferred.

Out of all the other Templar Knights, the male Legend twin shared a special understanding with the draenei's calmer half. He was easily able to read her thoughts and moods as if she were speaking directly into his own mind.

"The orc cheated!" Ademski defended. "Everyone saw him retrieve that bag of dust from his armor and attempt to blind the rest of his adversaries! I was merely pointing it out to the referee when the tankard slipped from my hands."

"And onto an Alliance steed?" Finished Samuel.

"Saelena please," the draenei sighed. "You are making this deal to be bigger than –"

Ademski's words were silenced once again only this time by the squawking cries of incoming griffons instead of his current companions. Everyone turned towards the approaching sound. The paladin's heart stiffened upon catching a glimpse of the amethyst-haired angel on quick approach. Her magnificent visage that has brought him so much joy throughout the years was also the source of newfound misery as well. Rayne hadn't put much thought into how he was going to handle the situation given everything that has transpired. Hopefully, the light was equally adept at mending hearts as it was bodies.

The griffons landed upon their roosts. Cayden was the first to step off. His fiery garb was a sight to behold in this otherwise drab environment. He took a few steps away and gathered his bearings along a nearby wall. The cosmic prowess of interdimensional travel was no issue to the young mage but apparently, he was still having problems keeping his body relaxed upon the wings of a simple flying creature.

Narula casually exited her beast and approached the weary magus. Her smooth lavender skin peaked out from a few notable places alongside the rigid frames of her purple leather armor. The paladin couldn't avert his gaze past her gleaming silver eyes and shimmering amber irises. Looking upon her beautiful form proved to make this more challenging than he original anticipated. Rayne braced himself for the moment to come as the final two Knights began walking towards them.

"Sorry we're late," the mage remarked. "Archmage Rhonin asked me to deliver a letter to the Highlord this morning."

Cayden sulked where he stood as the humiliation sunk in.

"Had I known he was planning on scripting it the day of, I would have pestered him to finish it sooner."

"Don't worry about it," smiled the paladin. "I'm sure whatever message the Archmage is sending is of the utmost importance."

Rayne slowly turned to face the night elf. This was the closest he's stood next to her since that fateful evening. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins in a heated frenzy. It almost started to make his hands tremble. He was doing his best to remain professional and yet she looked so calm and carefree as if the moment they shared outside of Ulduar had been completely forgotten. If she was showing the poise of her strength to keep their personal matters out of the way of business, the least he could do was reciprocate in kind.

"Hello Narula."

The paladin's voice was soft but strong. He didn't allow his heart to get lost in her elegant expression.

"Good morning Raymond," she casually replied with a smile.

Something was off. The way she spoke was painfully normal. Rayne was expecting the night elf to at least show some signs of awkwardness. It wasn't like they shared some kind of embarrassing incident that could be easily laughed at. The paladin poured his heart out to her and she quickly returned it back to him with a few extra cuts, scrapes, and tears.

"I apologize for having you called out so suddenly," added Rayne. "How were your accommodations?

"They were adequate, thank you," she said with another alluring smile.

"Actually I should apologize as well," Cayden cut in. "Had I known they were going to put you in a room with a broken mirror, I would have arranged for them to have made a switch immediately."

The paladin raised an eyebrow and returned his gaze back upon the night elf. Before he could probe any further, she immediately followed up with an additional remark.

"It's quite all right," Narula defended. "Please, do not trouble yourself over the thought."

The light was not shining upon them on this day. Rayne could feel the air growing denser by the second. Everyone knew that something was definitely a miss yet no one had the audacity to say anything otherwise. It wasn't like any simple spat amongst guildmates. Narula and Rayne were the ones who started the Templar Knights. They were a part of the entire recruiting effort as a team. Knowing they were somewhat at odds regarding personal matters were going to make the oncoming days a bit of a challenge to say the least.

"Rayne Templar," another voice sharply called.

The paladin was spared another agonizing moment of awkwardness. All of the Knights turned their attention towards the grim individual sporting hideously designed plate armor. It was as if the smith had crafted it from nightmare itself. It was crimson and grey, the color of blood and death. Horned spikes stood up from its helm adopting a demonic-esque look while an equally haunting face with glowing fel-colored eyes hung upon the waistplate, spaulders, gauntlets, and boots alike. A giant blade was slung across his back. The flat was adorned with various runic markings and the tip housed a glowing sphere that radiated with dark energy.

"I'm Rayne Templar," answered the paladin.

"Darion Mograine," the death knight replied while extending his arm outward. His voice was gruff and echoed with every breath.

Rayne took Darion's hand and shook it proudly.

"You have been the talk of the Vanguard for quite some time Templar," commented Mograine. "As well as your companions."

The death knight stopped for a moment while scanning the rest of the Templar Knights. He peered deeply at the warrior as if struck by a bout of nostalgia.

"Bloodblade?" Darion posed. "Is that you?"

"And here I thought you wouldn't recognize me after all these years," grinned Marcus.

The two exchanged a strong but quick handshake.

"I imagined you would have lost your head years ago," the death knight stiffly joked. "Turns out, it was only your hair that suffered the fateful blow."

"Always a wise ass," laughed the warrior. "Even underneath all that armor you're still the same kid I met all those years back."

"You're lucky my father always spoke highly of you," Mograine countered. "I wouldn't just let anyone speak to me in such a manner."

"Me and luck have always had a special relationship," Marcus winked.

"Actually, I'm glad I ran into you," said Darion. "I'm working on a special project and could use your particular set of skills. I heard you were a part of the original expedition to Northrend."

The warrior scoffed.

"I was only a part of the emissary voyage to beg that bastard Arthas to come back home," he begrudgingly replied. "I imagine if he weren't a prince and I weren't a lowly foot soldier we would have had a much different conversation and maybe none of this crazy shit would have happened."

"I see," the death knight replied. "But I thought you were a part of his original company in Lordaeron?"

"I abandoned that idiot just before the Culling," responded the warrior. "Anyone with half a brain did to. No one that went with him on his damned quest came back alive."

"Luck seems to follow you closely it would seem," Darion added.

"It ain't luck that keeps my head on my shoulders," Marcus shrugged. "Just a good brain and manageable appetite."

"Either way," the death knight spoke. "I'm sure this task will be right up your alley."

"Sounds good," smirked the warrior. He turned to pay the paladin a quick glance. "Mind if I step out for a bit and placate an old friend with his request?"

"Be my guest," smiled Rayne.

"Follow me," Darion ordered. "I'll show you the way to the Highlord's tent."

The death knight led them through the encampment. It was a much shorter walk than expected. He ushered them up a path leading towards the highest ridge of the base. It overlooked the entire area and even some secluded areas deep within Icecrown itself.

"You'll find Tirion just up that way," the death knight pointed. "Let's go Bloodblade."

"Duty calls," smiled Marcus. "Give the old man my regards."

"Will do," laughed the paladin.

Rayne of course had no intention of using the warrior's specific words but it was a thoughtful gesture nonetheless. The paladin followed as instructed up the rising mountainous pathway towards the main battlement. Three large tables stood underneath a wide array of tents. High ranking officers and commanders gathered around several laid out sheets of plans, blueprints and other documents. They conducted themselves surprisingly properly but the occasional emotion would rise followed by the slamming of fists upon the table when an apparent disagreement was found.

Standing the center of them all was the Highlord himself. The paladin was easily able to spot him amongst all the others. Tirion wore shimmering gold plate that glistened as if it were made up of the light itself. The spaulders glowed with its magnificent aura and shined brightly amongst the duller surroundings. Streaks of blue and white made their appearance along the gauntlets and legplates which gave off an aura of the Alliance colors. However, the Argent Crusade was made up of many races, favored no side and served no individual faction, nor did its leader. They all had one goal and mind and politics played little part in it.

Amongst all other things on the table, nothing called out to Rayne more than the sight of the legendary Ashbringer itself. It was a marvelous blade forged in the depths of Ironforge upon the Great Anvil by king Magni Bronzebeard himself. A gleaming orb floated above the back which radiated a majestically powerful light. The hilt bore the ancient "L" of the now ruined kingdom of Loredaeron. It was both a reminder of the tragedy that had befallen the land thanks to its prince and as a way to honor those that needlessly shed blood for it in the wake of Arthas' betrayal.

The Highlord was staring intently upon a map carefully laid out before him. He was drawing pathways from his fingers and would carefully stop to jot down notes with a nearby quill. Rayne made his approach with the rest of his Knights following closely behind. He stood before the table, merely a couple of feet away from the famed paladin of legend and introduced himself.

"Highlord Fordring."

Tirion took his eyes up from the table. His long white hair flowed from his temples to just beneath his chin where a large scruffy beard sat.

"I am Raymond Nigel Templar," the paladin declared. "It is an honor to finally meet you."

"Raymond Templar," the Highlord said with a soft smile forming on his lips.

The two paladins exchanged a brief but powerful handshake.

"So these are the Templar Knights?" Tirion rhetorically posed.

"Yes sir," replied Rayne.

The paladin introduced each of the proud members of their guild. He was modest but fair when listing off their skills and trades. While they may have made quite the name for themselves lately, Rayne wanted them to remember their roots and to not get a big head or they might find themselves in a situation where their collective abilities would finally meet their ultimate match. Given all that has happened, this may very well found it right here.

"Thank you for coming today," began Tirion. "I must say, we've been hearing your name quite a bit lately. King Varian speaks very highly of you. As does the Archmage Rhonin."

"Speaking of which," the paladin commented while turning his attention towards Cayden. "We have a message for you on his behalf."

The mage retrieved the scroll from within his robes and personally handed it to Tirion. The Highlord verified the Kirin Tor's wax seal upon the parchment before carefully opening it. He read through the contents carefully. As Tirion progressed, his expression deepened and fell grim.

"I should have known," the Highlord cursed. "Had I been informed; I would have seen to it that they were properly outfitted. They are being too hasty and now I fear the worst."

The paladin raised an eyebrow.

"Highlord?"

"Forgive me," said Tirion. "Our intelligence network has been working on some plans to defeat the Lich King that would spare the need for a full frontal assault on his fortress. A few days ago, some of our scouts had reported finding another entrance into Icecrown Citadel along the western region of the spire."

The Highlord crumpled the parchment within his gauntlet as his temper flared.

"The Archmage has just informed me that Lady Jaina Proudmoore and Sylvanas Windrunner have taken a group of volunteers to personally investigate this matter."

Tirion released the crumpled paper atop the table and allowed his mood to calm.

"I told them not to make haste but the young ones are too eager for curiosity and vengeance. Now is not the time for such foolish endeavors."

The Highlord pushed himself from the table and called out to one of his subordinates.

"Crusader Segard!"

A soldier in dull grey plate and brown trimmed armor scurried out of one of the tents, approached the table, and saluted proudly.

"Yes Highlord!"

"Send word to High Captain Bartlett aboard the Skybreaker at once. Tell them Lady Jaina Proudmoore has ventured into the Citadel and may need assistance."

"Yes Highlord," Crusader Segard replied with another hearty salute before racing down the pathway once more and vanishing from sight.

"Forgive me again," Tiron sighed. "Things have been rather hectic here lately. While some of our advisors are attempting to figure out a quick resolution to this damned excursion, the rest of us are left to plan the main assault upon Icecrown Citadel."

The paladin saw this as his opportunity to strike. They were called here for a purpose and given all that has happened, Rayne was more the willing to give the Highlord his full attention.

"How can we be of assistance Lord Tirion?"

"That's why I called you here today Templar."

Tirion reached just underneath the table and retrieved a small red pouch made up of the finest silk cloth the paladin had seen in quite some time.

"You and your men have been highly regarded from some of the finest warriors Azeroth has to offer, and she needs you now more than ever."

The Highlord reached into the pouch and from within pulled out a golden badge.

"The Argent Crusade as well as myself would like you ask the Templar Knights to be the Vanguard of our army as we initiate the attack upon the Lich King's fortress."

Tirion passed the badge to the paladin. It radiated a commanding aura. The mark of the Argent Crusade sat in the center with the title of _Commander_ written underneath.

"Will you do us the honor of leading our forces into battle?"

This was a huge request; possibly the largest Rayne nor anyone of his companions have received in their lifetime. Being a part of the attack on Icecrown Citadel was an honor in and of itself. It was the reason soldier and adventurer alike were on this frozen wasteland to begin with. However, being asked to be at the forefront of the battle was another beast entirely. The Vanguard unit was not just the most honored of all positions, it was also the most dangerous. They would be the first to breach the gates, the first to taste battle, and the first to suffer casualties. Most Vanguard units never make it back with more than twenty percent of their forces in tact if they even make it back at all.

This wasn't a decision to be made lightly. The paladin considered all of the scenarios carefully. His words uttered on that fateful day in Wintergrasp returned to haunt him.

 _I never wanted to become a hero but before I knew it, I had already become one._

A hero wasn't something to aspire to. They are born in the battlefield through tireless effort, dedication, and passion. Rayne, in his naivety, once thought differently on this matter. Throughout his life all he wanted to do was help those who were unable to help themselves. His thoughts drifted to the orphans in Ashenvale. None of them were old enough to carry a blade themselves. They were dependent on those that could. This expedition wasn't an honor or a privilege, it was the paladin's duty.

"I accept."

Rayne took the badge from the Highlord and examined it carefully in his hands.

"We are in your debt Templar," commented Tirion. "Thank you."

The paladin shook his head.

"We are fighting for the peace of our world Highlord," Rayne countered. "I will do what I can in order to ensure that peace lives on no matter the cost."

"You are as esteemed as the courage of your deeds has spoken of," the Highlord smiles. "Tell me, how many soldiers do you have at your command."

"We are about two thousand strong," answered the paladin. "They have arrived last night and awaiting my orders at a moment's notice."

"Two thousand?"

Tirion pondered the numbers for a moment. He turned his attention to the battle plans on the table below. They featured detailed outlines of the Icecrown area near the Citadel itself.

"That should work," he nodded. "Here's what we'll need you to do."

The Highlord motioned for Rayne to come closer as he began outlining their strategy in great detail.

"We are planning to begin our assault in ten days. Your forces will breach the main front here," Tirion began while dropping his finger along the southern edge of the fortress. "Our goal was to attack the spire directly, however."

He stopped himself for a moment while laying out a large piece of parchment across the table atop the previous plans. This one depicted a magnificent rendering of Icecrown Citadel itself from every angle without a single visible detail spared.

"The Source appears to have outlined a rather large army along the outside gates. The main spire entrance is heavily guarded by ghouls, abominations, gargoyles, and there are even reports of a large frost wyrm circling the area."

Tiron retrieved a small model shaped like a flying warship and placed it atop the drawings.

"Unfortunately, we can't even get near it. The Skybreaker or Ogrim's Hammer can't get close enough to launch an assault without being attacked from the air from the gargoyles. And if the rumors of the frost wyrm are true, I'm not going to risk our resources on a fool's errand. That is why we're going to attack them from within."

The Highlord pointed his finger at the entrance marked with a red 'X' and slowly dragged it upwards towards a small opening at the base of the spire.

"You will launch the assault from the inside the Citadel and work your way up. Once your soldiers arrive here, they will begin clearing out the remainder of the Lich King's minions and allow us the opportunity to utilize the Skybreaker for troop transport on the western edge of the Citadel."

Tirion pulled back and address the paladin and his Knight's directly.

"We will arrange transport once word is given that everything is clear. The Skybreaker will take you and your soldiers up to the main spire entrance. Your final duty will be to clear out any remaining Scourge minions that may still be lurking around. Once the fortress has been breached, we will bring in the full force of the Argent Crusade within the Lich King's walls and bring that monster to justice once and for all."

The paladin carefully analyzed Tirion's plan. It was detailed, methodically, and most importantly, well thought out. The importance of Rayne's mission was clear. Without them, the Argent Crusade would be unable to attack the Lich King directly. The fate of Azeroth rested upon the skill and dedication of two thousand brave souls.

"Understood Highlord," the paladin stated. "I will send word to our army immediately. Would it be possible form them to stay here at the base with the rest of the Crusade in order to make their preparations?"

"We will make the proper arrangements," answered Tirion.

"Thank you Highlord," Rayne nodded.

The paladin turned towards the rest of his companions. They had not said a word nor raised a single spark of discontent. He would have to address them in private about the seriousness of their mission. It wouldn't be right to ask them directly in front of the Highlord himself.

"That is all I have for you for today," Tirion commented. "Go on and get some rest. We will see you in ten days."

Rayne stood proudly before the Argent Crusade's leader and gave him a hearty salute.

"Highlord Fordring."

Tirion responded in kind.

"Commander Templar."

They broke off their respective salutes simultaneously. Rayne quickly made his way down the pathway and headed for the griffon's roost.

"I know I may be wasting my breath," the paladin started. "But if any of you do not wish to accompany me –"

"Nonsense Templar!" Ademski shouted while giving his leader a hearty slap on the back. "After everything we've been through, how could we even –"

The paladin stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around and addressed the Knights sternly.

"I'm being serious Ademski," he boldly stated. "Everyone needs to take some time and think about this clearly. The Vanguard unit is not something to take lightly. This is a direct assault against the strongest enemies of the Scourge. We have no idea what to expect once those doors open. Our lives – "

"You're right Rayne," the male Legend twin casually sighed. "You are wasting your breath."

The paladin was taken aback. Normally when asked he would expect some form of discontent to be relieved with a bit of humor afterwards but the look on Samuel's face told him he was nothing but serious.

"We made our decision a long time ago," Zariyana said with a petite smile forming on her lips. "After all we've been through, do you think we're really going to abandon you now?"

"That goes for me as well," added Cayden. "You guys have been like a family to me. I'd never be able to live with myself if you went at this alone Rayne."

"Aye as well Templar," nodded Ademski. "Saelena and I have faced countless foes at each other's side but never have we been happier to stand at arms with the likes of you my friend."

The draenei placed his gauntlet atop Rayne's spaulder.

"This is not a battle for you to face alone. We are in this together from the moment we accepted you as our leader. Nothing, not one ghoul or a thousand can ever break our bond."

Rayne couldn't help but smile. He was happy to hear these words more than ever. Before he knew it, everyone's gaze averted downward to the shortest member of their group who had yet to say anything regarding the matter at hand. When all eyes were fully upon him, Weasel finally spoke.

"What? Are you expecting me to get all mushy like the rest of them?" The gnome shrugged. "You point, I kill. That was the deal we agreed upon when I decided to join the band and as you know, I'm not one to break a bargain."

"Thank you Weasel," smiled the paladin who quickly turned to address the rest of his Knights. "I am forever in your debt."

Narula was surprisingly quiet throughout the entire ordeal. Normally, she would be the first to raise her voice and declare her undying allegiance. However, she was being uncharacteristically modest and reserved at a time like this. Rayne snuck a glance at her every few moments and noticed she never once returned his gaze. It was almost as if she were intentionally avoiding looking at him for some reason which was a total shift from how the night elf acted earlier.

Regardless of their personal feelings at this point, the Templar Knights had a new mission. This one was possibly the most important that had bestowed upon them. The threat of death couldn't be greater than standing within the Lich King's own fortress. It wasn't one to take lightly nor could they do so with a clouded mind.

"Everyone, you are officially on leave for the next ten days," declared the paladin. "Take the time for yourselves, get some rest, and prepare for what's to come."

This was a necessary part of his plan. With the weight of the entire battle falling upon their shoulders, they needed every moment they could spare to rest and relax. This may very well be the last chance they could ever get to do so. Rayne didn't want to say it directly but there was a great possibility that none of them would return home after this. He would do whatever he could to ensure that didn't happen but he wasn't going to outright lie to them either. The paladin was done playing those kind of games. He owed it to them out of the sheer respect and loyalty they have given them in these few months they've spent together. It was an arduous journey through humiliation and triumph but one that any of them would not soon forget.

"I will meet you all in front of the gates of Icecrown on the morning of the assault," Rayne added. "Until then, take care and enjoy yourselves."

They all nodded in acknowledgement. Cayden, unwilling to burden himself with another ride upon the griffon, created a direct portal back to Dalaran. The others took turns stepping through the vortex and into the grand magical city. Rayne watched the all leave without so much as a word in response. The weight of their mission must have taken its toll upon them as well. The paladin's eyes were fixated on the portal for so long he failed to initially notice and soft hand that had fallen upon his shoulder.

Rayne quickly turned and his heart immediately fluttered. The night elf was standing closer to him than he had in weeks. He could smell her lovely floral fragrance once more which immediately sent his emotions into overdrive. Narula peered at him with her gentle silver eyes and offered a bright smile.

"Ishnu-alah."

Nerves began rattling all over his skin. The paladin was speechless. He said nothing as the night elf's slender arm fell from his body and she casually walked through the portal without another word.

A thousand thoughts began racing through his mind. Was that her way of bridging the gap and letting things go back to normal? Rayne was desperate for answers but knew he wouldn't get them anytime soon. Taking his own advice about relaxing would certainly prove to be difficult now. At the very least, he could relish in the fact that the night elf was not letting his confession affect her duties.

Before Rayne could dwell further on any such thoughts, a beefy arm wrapped around his neck and pulled him tightly downward.

"Hey kid," the warrior maniacally sneered. "What's with that lovey-dovey look? Did you and Narula finally kiss and make up?"

The paladin struggled to reply both mentally and physically given the chokehold he was now suffering.

"Not exactly."

Marcus released his grip and dejectedly shrugged.

"Damn it," he sighed. "I'm going to be paying that gnome for the rest of my life."

Rayne pulled himself up and moved his neck from side to side to ensure the warrior's strength did not leave any long lasting physical damage. Thankfully, it never did but he couldn't be too careful all things considering.

"What did Mograine wish to discuss with you?"

"Oh, that kid?"

A smile slowly formed on Marcus' lips.

"Just a small retrieval mission," he started. "I figured you could tag along with me to help clear your head a bit. It'll be the perfect thing to take your mind off Narula and all of this stuff going on."

"Really?" Rayne curiously probed. "Where exactly will we be going?"

The warrior's grin turned wide.

"When was the last time you visited Dragonblight?"


	6. Chapter 5

_Warsong Hold_

 _Borean Tundra_

The main hall of this robust fortress reeked with stench of steel and leather. Wooden planks creaked with the mighty steps of soldiers moving about the open area. The crudely designed structure lacked the practicality and elegance of elven buildings. All of the blades and spikes protruding about seemed impractical and downright wasteful. Unless the structure was going to grow a pair of legs and start attacking its enemies, it seemed pointless to arm them with weapons. The orcish influence in this place was strong and unfortunately, it would not soon wane either.

Lorelei proceeded down the main pathway behind her two escorts. She hadn't bothered learning their names during the journey; not that they were much for conversations anyways. The young elf could sense their contempt for her presence growing larger since their initial meeting. It didn't help that most of the lot in this wretched place were all dreadful-looking, foul mouthed, and uncultured barbarians. However, out of the corner of the young elf's eye, she did spot someone with at least looked distinguished amongst the rest. The only other elf in this building had illustrious platinum hair. She wore vivid red armor with trims of grey running along the edges and openly carried a glowing crystal staff crackling with a light, mystical arcane energy at the tip. Across her chest hung a violet tabard with a familiar looking design threaded in gold. The young elf took caution not to stare too long but in that brief moment, their eyes locked and her fellow sister gave a knowing nod.

The three approached the center of the hall. Sitting on the floor, encircled with bladed barricades was a large leather rug with fur trim. Outlined on top was a crude map. Lorelei had seen this back in the Sunreaver's Sanctuary. This appeared to be an illustration of Northrend with all of the different areas marked off and drawn upon. Several stacks of miniature wooden figures in the vague shape of knights stood in company formation in several key areas. A few orcish soldiers stood around it arguing and debating as if it were a sport of some kind. If this is what passed for strategy around here, the young elf must tread with absolute caution.

A pair of winding stairs lead to the next level of the fortress in a crescent pattern. Two thick steel columns adorned with spikes stood proudly between them. A lengthy iron chain hung from the top of each and connected them in a somewhat ornate fashion. Underneath sat a short altar leading toward a violent metal throne. Fangs of black steel rose from its sides hugging the chair as if mimicking the maw of an orc itself. Behind it hung a gallant red flag carved with the proud black symbol of the Horde in the center.

Standing before the seat was an impressive figure. He was a larger than any other orc in this building and any other that the young elf had privilege of meeting otherwise. He wore thick plates of grey armor with the inlays trimmed in deep crimson, the color of blood. On his chest hung a classic red and white tabard of the Horde that carried tatters and scars with the marks of hundreds of previous battles. The spaulders were carved and shaped to appear as if they were a pair of fearsome boars with hard black tusks. It looked as if he were trying to convey that he was an animal in combat, ferocious and unyielding. Even his helm had two horns protruding at opposite sides; one broken and marred as if lost in battle and the other long and sharp pointing straight at Lorelei.

"Overlord Saurfang," both orcs said in unison.

The way they spoke in his presence was oddly submissive. It was as if these two were humbled by the other's very presence. He looked down upon his subordinates with deep red eyes.

"What is it?"

Saurfang's voice was deep and gruff. The two orcs looked at each other confused. After a moment of mental debating, the second turned and addressed his superior.

"Where is Overlord Agmar?"

His direct question seemed to do nothing more than fill the air with burdens and annoyance. Saurfang grunted and answered as calmly as he could manage.

"High Overlord Hellscream has sought fit to relieve Agmar of his command here. He has returned to his base in Dragonblight."

The first orc looked more angry than confused while the second just stared blankly at the Overlord.

"Why did he even bother sending us out there then?" The first spat. "Are we that expendable to be wasted on a whim?"

Even in the presence of a superior officer, this orc still retained his rebellious spirit and a sever lack of tact. However, the Overlord seemed surprisingly calm throughout the other's rant.

"While I don't share your attitude I am with you in spirit," commented Saurfang. "Garrosh is experienced in battle but still young at command. He thinks nothing of the consequences so long as it suits his motives."

The two orcs looked at each other once more. It appears as though they were surprised to hear such open dissent between superiors. The Overlords had a brief but notable altercation at the start of the Northrend expedition but it looked as if it was squashed moments later. Resentment was like poison to leadership. Unless it was treated immediately, it would slowly lead to one's death.

"What task did Agmar order you to undertake?"

Saurfang's change of topic came so abruptly it caught both of the orcs off guard for a moment. Without speaking, they each took a step to opposing sides revealing the young elf to the Overlord.

"Who are you?"

She didn't waver in front of the face of the historical hero of the Horde. Her glowing green eyes stared back at him sternly and full of resolve.

"Lorelei Starstrider."

"Starstrider?"

The Overlord took a moment to ponder that name. His mind raced over the memories but within moments, found the answer he had been searching for.

"Starstrider, that was the name of the commander Garrosh had put in charge of defending the fortress at Lake Wintergrasp," he said grimly. "Are you related?"

The young elf clenched her fist. Just hearing him being mentioned sent the horrific memories of that morning blitzing through her mind. The large red blade that had stolen Jean's life may have been broken but the wound will forever remain unhealed.

"He was my brother."

Saurfang's expression changed slightly. Despite his size and apparent strength, there was a powerful air of wisdom surrounding him. He wasn't like the other two nor much of the others the elves gossiped about back in Silvermoon. This Saurfang was in a class of his own and whatever respect he easily commanded from these two was very well deserved.

"Your brother was a great warrior," the Overlord began. "I have heard of his many accolades within our ranks. His passing is a great loss to us all."

The young elf's brow tightened. She had been raised to expect nothing but disdain and contempt from orcs given their usual mannerisms. However, this one continued to prove he was different from the rest with every passing breath.

"And what brings this young one here today?"

"Overlord Agmar ordered us to escort her here," the second answered. "Apparently, she has some high valued information."

Saurfang's expression deepened as he peered downward.

"What kind of information would that be?"

Lorelei took a quick breath. Even thinking about his damn name sent her nerves into overdrive. Unfortunately, the only way she was going to continue her quest to exact her revenge was by saying those dreaded words once again.

"Rayne Templar."

"Templar?"

The Overlord was seemingly confused and let out a stiff grunt. This begged the young elf to continue to explain herself.

"I know him," she continued. "I know his friends. I know where he hides. And I know how to hurt him the most."

There was an uncomfortable air of silence floating about after Lorelei finished. The two orcs that escorted her at least seemed curious about what she had to say. Saurfang, on the other hand, did not look pleased in the slightest.

"The foolish bounty that Garrosh placed," sighed the Overlord. "Why are we wasting our wasting our resources for such irrational – "

"I'm not doing this for gold!" Snapped the young elf. "That bastard," she hissed. "He – "

"I know," Saurfang interrupted. "Your quest is one of vengeance."

Lorelei remained quiet. Her green eyes burned with a passionate fury. Someone finally understood her plight. All of the thing's she's done, all of the sacrifices made would not be wasted. She just needed a little push in the right direction and both parties would receive a mutually beneficial outcome in the end.

"The name Templar has been burned into our walls for as many times as Garrosh has shouted it with disdain and hatred," stated the Overlord. "Upon hearing the news of Templar's command of the Alliance forces, the High Overlord denied sending more reinforcements to the fortress at Wintergrasp. Allegedly, Templar and his companions had made a name for themselves as a lot of incompetent warriors incapable of completing even the simplest of tasks."

Saurfang released a deep breath and grunted heavily.

"The intelligence we gathered was obviously a plot created by Templar which lulled our leadership into a false sense of security regarding that matter."

The young elf's eyes brightened. This orc had firsthand knowledge of all of the deceits and lies spouted by that treacherous man. They were not the only ones that fell victim to his ruse and suffered greatly for it.

"Garrosh believes he has been made a fool of," Saurfang calmly spoke. "And he seeks to remedy that by hanging that paladin's head on a spike atop our walls here."

"I plan to deliver that to him," spat Lorelei with a smirk. "And so much more."

The Overlord groaned and released a massive grunt through his thick green lips.

"If Garrosh were here to witness this," he uttered quietly. "He may show you an ounce of respect, even if you are an elf."

Her plan had worked. The young elf mustered all of her strength to contain the joy she was feeling right now. With the voice silenced and her gifted strength depleting by the day, this was her last chance to end that damned paladin's life once and for all.

"Fortune and fate appear to be shining on us both," said Saurfang. "Your thirst for revenge and our mission are one in the same."

The Overlord reached for a parchment atop the empty throne behind him. Its seal had already been broken and contents distributed to his subordinates. Fortunately, there was still one more person who needed to hear the information held within.

"We've just received word that the Argent Crusade has assigned Templar and his army as the Vanguard unit for our assault on Icecrown Citadel. They plan to crush the Lich King's door, decimate his forces from within, and use the Alliance's Skybreaker to shuttle soldiers to the front lines atop the main spire."

Saurfang's tone deepened and grew grim. His eyes sharpened as he glared back at the young elf with feverish intensity.

"Garrosh has taken this news as an insult to both the Horde and himself. Allying with Templar is the very last thing he wishes to do."

The parchment crumpled in the Overlord's large fist. His anger was readily apparent and growing with every passing moment.

"We have been ordered to take Ogrim's Hammer and assault his army upon breaching the spire. Our mission is to destroy the Skybreaker, eliminate the remaining Alliance forces and resume the assault as the new Vanguard unit. He believes that not even the Argent Crusade can condemn him if the results are ultimately the same."

Lorelei steeled herself to contain the massive grin attempting to bore its way past her lips. This was almost too perfect.

"I advised against it but the Warchief saw fit to leave Garrosh in charge of our efforts in Northrend so even I cannot disobey a direct command."

As far as the young elf was concerned, the orcs were the biggest antagonists to the Alliance above the other races of the Horde. This one may have commanded respect from his peers but he didn't share in their bloodlust for war as the others did. Perhaps she was wrong about him after all.

"Your knowledge of Templar and his allies will prove useful," the Overlord spoke while pointing his mighty finger down in Lorelei's direction. "I am assigning you as our newest Sergeant and in charge of commanding our troops within Ogrim's Hammer as we lay siege upon the Alliance's warship."

Saurfang too his eyes off the young elf for a moment and peered over her shoulder where a large broadsword sat.

"That blade," he remarked while staring deeply into the gleaming orange stone in the weapon's hilt. "Can you wield it?"

Lorelei was insulted. If only this boorish warrior had seen her in action a few weeks ago he would have thought otherwise before speaking in such an insolent manner. However, the young elf knew her strength then and now were no longer one in the same. She still felt comfortable with it in her hands but would much rather prefer the favored weapon of her people.

"It has already tasted his blood once before," Lorelei replied while seizing the handle within her slender grip. She unsheathed the massive blade with a near intravenous swipe and drew it forward easily handling the two-handed blade in a single outstretched arm. "And it is certainly hungry for more."

The Overlord took another breath. He looked somewhat impressed but remained cautious.

"I don't expect our soldiers to enter into direct combat with the Alliance aboard the Skybreaker," he stated while turning to the second of her two escorts and directing him personally. "Go to the armory and equip this young one with a bow and quiver. I'm sure that weapon will be of more use to her."

The second nodded in acknowledgement and darted off with great haste. Lorelei sheathed her blade as Saurfang turned to the other and snarled.

"You are dismissed."

The first acknowledged his superior and saluted before leaving. Lorelei couldn't verify it directly but it appeared his temperament was more frightened than annoyed.

"Our mission begins in nine days," the Overlord ordered returning his gaze back upon the young elf. "You are welcome to stay here and use our quarters at your leisure. We will begin briefing and outfitting our vessel next week. You are to report directly to me and to no one else, is that understood?"

Lorelei was curious as to why he was being so kind and direct. Only a fool would smile when someone was bearing fangs but the young elf had trusted him with her desires and he fortunately reciprocated. She couldn't find the best words to properly convey her feelings without letting her emotions run rampant so Lorelei just replied with a single nod.

"Then you are dismissed as well young one."

The Overlord turned his back and ventured up the nearby flight of stairs. His boots slammed into the wooden steps as he ascended. The young elf watched until he was completely out of sight until she took her own leave. Before she got even two steps away, another beefy arm crossed her path with a familiar looking weapon in its grip.

"Here," the second of her escorts stated. "Take it."

Lorelei took the bow and quiver into her possession and examined them briefly. They were made of mostly steel with a few wooden pieces that appeared to be for decorative purposes only. This was definitely an orcish design. Elves would never craft a weapon that was meant to bend out of an element that is designed not to. This was meant for orc hands but if this was all they had then it would have to do.

The young elf nodded in acknowledgement and didn't even give him a passing glance as she continued her exit out of the main hall. She threw the quiver over her shoulder and slid its strap across her chest. It rested comfortably against the scabbard of her broadsword. With the bow in her hands, Lorelei felt equipped to take on the world and the only prevailing thought she carried with her was destroying Templar's.

"Excuse me child," another voice called.

Lorelei's head snapped angrily. She hated being addressed that way. Given all that she has witnessed, inflicted, and sacrificed, there was no innocence of a child that remained within the young elf. Fortunately, her expression lightened as she locked eyes with the only other member of her race she first spotted upon entering this fortress.

"My apologies," she started. "My name is Magistrix Kaelana. Forgive me once more for eavesdropping but I heard that you are the sibling to Jean Starstrider?"

The young elf was much calmer after hearing his name once more. Whether it was because it was uttered by another blood elf or the fact that she said it with an overwhelming amount of respect in her tone were both big contributing factors. Lorelei replied with a simple nod as the other continued.

"Your brother was a phenomenal warrior. His deeds and accomplishments were a blessing to us all," Kaelana began. "I, like our other brothers and sisters, were severely grief-stricken when we heard the news of his death."

This elf was drawing on a large pool of sympathy but her motives still remained unclear. Lorelei continued to stare upon her as the Magistrix expression sharpened. A hint of anger flowed within her green eyes as she addressed the young elf once more.

"His death must not go unavenged," she boldly declared. "I am willing to assist you."

Kaelana reached into a pouch sitting at her waist and from within retrieved a tiny scroll no thicker or longer than a finger.

"Take this," she said. "I shall grant you quick passage to Dalaran. Go there and within the sewers, look for a man named Cinesra and hand him this note. He shall give you something that will aid you in your plight."

The young elf took the scroll as instructed. It was sealed with a yellow crest depicting the glorious wings of the phoenix, the symbol of her hometown of Silvermoon. Lorelei was surprised to see it given that the Magistrix's tabard had an entirely different crest upon it.

"Thank you," the young elf replied.

It was the first time in as long as Lorelei could remember that she truly felt grateful towards someone for their assistance. Whatever this fellow elf was offering, Lorelei hoped it would be just the thing she needed in order to achieve her goals.

Kaelana nodded and smiled. Her hands began glowing with radiant arcane energies. A vortex instantly appeared between them encircled with a powerful blue light. The magical city of Dalaran stood between them. The young elf took an eager step forward and held her anticipation as she sought a new ally to help quench her thirst for vengeance against Rayne Templar. She wanted to stand over him and watch him suffer as she drenched the lands of Northrend with Narula's sickening blood. After he's tasted the agony Lorelei has had to endure would he be ready for death. One of the final things her brother said to her started resonating in the young elf's thoughts. It was twisted to suit her purposes but still had the same ring to it.

If fate were kind, she wouldn't have to look far to find them.

* * *

 _Scarlet Point_

 _Dragonblight_

The winds blew with a strong chill across the narrow path between the mountains. Rayne trotted along the main road with a borrowed steed alongside the warrior atop a similar looking horse. Their bardings bore the crest of the Argent Crusade and were on loan from a nearby encampment just a few miles east of their current position.

"How much further Marcus?" Asked the paladin.

"Darion said just take this road all the way east," the warrior casually replied. "We'll know it when we see it. There's an abandoned encampment just outside."

"And what exactly are we looking for again?"

Rayne tried to probe the warrior a few times beforehand much more subtly but was met with quick failure. This was his first attempt at directly asking which he hoped would prove

"You'll see," grinned Marcus.

The paladin was beginning to empathize with his companions every time he gave one of his classic 'It's a long story' responses. Whatever surprise Marcus had in store for him must have been a good one. The warrior always enjoyed being at the forefront of every battle. Being secretive was not his usual style.

"True me," Marcus said continuing his smile. "You're going to – "

"Hold it!"

Both horses came to a stop as ordered by the paladin. The path opened to a wide ridge at the base of the mountain. A pair of guard towers stood before a large opening in the cave to the north. One appeared to still be under construction while the other was completed and fit for use. The road they stood on ran between this minor battlement with several planks of wood and construction supplies scattered about.

Rayne leapt off his horse and pulled his engineering goggles down over his eyes. He twisted the lens and adjusted the settings to the zoom function. The paladin scanned the surrounding area. There wasn't a soul in this vicinity.

"It's clear," Rayne calmly stated resetting the goggles to their standard setting. "We'll go on foot from here."

"Roger that boss."

The warrior leapt off his horse and proceeded up the pathway alongside Rayne. With Marcus being as coy as ever with their mission here, it was pointless to continue to probe for more information. At the very least, the warrior was right. This trip did take the paladin's mind off everything else as it was completely enamored with the task at hand.

They approached the first abandoned tower still under construction. Rayne flicked his goggles to the threat assessment setting. He loaded a fresh fragmentation rocket into his hand-mounted pyro-launcher for good measure. One could never be too careful when exploring the unknown.

Two large white banners stood on opposing ends of the road leading up towards the cavern's entrance. They depicted the famed crest of Loredaeron in deep crimson. It was the known symbol of an infamous group attempting to make a name for themselves in Northrend and thankfully, have gone mostly unopposed to the efforts of some of the more prominent factions.

"What is the Scarlet Onslaught doing all the way out here?" Questioned the paladin.

"Beats me," shrugged Marcus. "Those guys never had their swords in the right sheaths if you ask me. Luckily, that's not why we're here."

The two continued to walk towards the large mouth of the cave. Scattered rocks sat along the sides with a massive chunk of snow hanging just above. It looked as if one wrong shift could send everything crashing down and trapped any fools who dared to venture past this point.

"It should be right inside," Marcus said pointing with his drawn mace.

"What is this place?" Rayne pondered.

The paladin's eyes began scanning the cavern with feverish curiosity. A distinct and familiar odor engulfed his nostrils as he took a step inside. The cave was massive but seemingly deserted. Gouts of teal colored lights illuminated the area. The stench and sight immediately triggered a memory within Rayne's thoughts and sent his heart pounding.

"Saronite?" He feverishly questioned. "This cave is littered with it. But why?"

"I thought you might want to visit it at least once before we got off this giant frozen rock," smiled the warrior. "This is a significant piece of history to us both after all."

That only seemed to draw more upon the paladin's growing interest. They carefully proceeded into the snow-filled cave. Rayne scanned the area from corner to corner as they walked but found no traces of anything remotely interesting as the warrior had boasted.

"Marcus," groaned Rayne. "If this is some sort of –"

Suddenly, the paladin stopped himself as his eyes locked on a vivid light at the northern end of the cave. There was a shine to it unlike anything Rayne had ever seen. It was almost as if it were calling to him directly.

"This my friend," the warrior spoke, "is where the Fall of Loredaeron first started. It's where that damned monster Arthas signed away his soul in order to avenge his people."

The paladin flicked his goggles to the zoom function. His mind froze as it looked upon a runic altar that has stood empty for years.

"This is where they found Frostmourne."

"Frostmourne?!"

Even the very name of that weapon sent chills down the spines of the most seasoned of soldiers. No one who had ever clashed with that dreaded blade has lived to tell the tale.

"Why are we here?" Questioned Rayne. "Does it have something to do with the blade's resting place?"

"We're not here for the memories," Marcus stated. "We're here to take what that negligent fool left behind in exchange for his soul."

The paladin scanned further. His heart leapt as he laid eyes upon the source of the gleaming light sitting undisturbed in the nearby snow.

"That's," gasped Rayne. "Light's Vengeance."

"Uh huh," the warrior grunted as they continued their approach. "And it may very well be the key to ending the Lich King's reign of terror once and for all."

The legendary mace wielded by Arthas Menethil sat less than a hundred feet away. It was as the warrior had stated earlier, a momentous piece of history to Azeroth. If this could help the Argent Crusade in their quest to defeat the Lich King, Rayne held no objections to their quest.

"Then let's take it."

The paladin took a deep breath and reverted his goggles back to their standard setting. His eagerness got the best of him as he hastened his approach. Marcus trudged along following his leader as best as he could. The weapon was clearly in view with the altar no more than a stone's throw away. Rayne continued forward throwing caution to the wind.

A sudden chill swept through the cavern. The air nearly froze in place and slowed down their movements almost entirely. An eerie voice echoed throughout the area. Its coarse rasp cut into their bodies unimpeded by armor or resolve.

"So predictable..."

From the darkness, a demon crept forth carrying with him an aura of malevolence. Dreaded black plates of armor lined with sharped blades, spikes and skulls rattled as he approached. A massive ragged cloak flowed behind him with each powerful step. Mists of smoke rose from the drawn sword in his right hand. Within the menacing horned helm, a pair of glowing blue eyes stared back at them.


	7. Chapter 6

_Frostmourne Cavern_

 _Dragonblight_

"Did you truly expect to fulfil Mograine's task unopposed?"

The air in the paladin's throat went dry. His nerves were assaulted by the relentless biting cold of the demonic presence looming in the distance. Standing before them, the horrific visage of the Lich King was fully revealed in the midst of the pale teal lights.

Hundreds of questions began flooding through Rayne's mind. Why was the Lich King here and how did he even find out about their mission were the two most prevailing thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, his companion Marcus looked equally as stunned at first glance of their unexpected guest. The paladin could at least find some solace that this wasn't another one of the warrior's surprises for the afternoon.

A horrific metal crash echoed into the cavern. The Lich King knocked the mighty hammer known as Light's Vengeance across the cave with a single blast from his armored boot. It flew wildly, spinning in a shining patter of silver and gold before landing upon a large patch of snow.

"You shall both suffer as his father does..."

Every word uttered from beneath that dreaded helm sent shivers down Rayne's spine. The Lich King raised the cursed runeblade known as Frostmourne and pointed it upward. Violent black and purple energy exploded from the tip. Dozens of bolts of explosive power cracked like thunder and crashed onto the cavern floor in all directions. From beneath the site of each detonation, an atrocious minion of the scourge burrowed its way from the ground and rose to serve their deadly master.

"...in eternal unrest!"

One last bastion of energy rang out from the Lich King's blade. It struck the area where Light's Vengeance now rests. A terrible moan bellowed within the newly created crater. Snow and rock exploded in a torrent of chaos. A massive hand slowly came into a view. It slammed onto the ground and pushed up the final minion's horrifying body into the cave.

"I hear and obey, master..." It gruesomely declared as the minion's full form came into view.

The creature stood nearly twenty feet tall. Layers of decayed flesh hung off its gargantuan skeletal form. Armored gauntlets and grieves rested on its appendages. Terrible blue eyes stared back at them as it howled once more.

"Die well, fools."

The paladin and warrior were surrounded on all sides. Hordes of the Lich King's vile Scourge minions let out a furious shout and made their horrid march on their position. Standing above the prize they came to collect was the most dreaded and fearsome of the lot. Despite this grave situation that had unfolded before them, it paled in comparison to being confronted by the very monster the whole of Azeroth has traveled to this vile land to defeat. Rayne never imagined he would be standing this close to the Lord of the Scourge but now wasn't the time to stand in awe. If either of them hoped to make it out of this alive, they were going to have to fight.

"Marcus!" The paladin vehemently shouted while drawing his sword and shield. "I'll hold the other ones off! Get the hammer and let's get the hell out of here!"

"Roger that!" Marcus replied while drawing his titansteel forged mace and barreling forward into the wave of approaching undead minions.

The orders came pouring out of his throat with grim desperation dripping from every breath. Rayne made the hard choice immediately. He knew he was much better suited to fend off the smaller minions and leave their most experienced combat veteran to take on the big one himself. It was a bold move but given the situation, this may be their only chance at survival.

Marcus slammed his mace into the first scourge ghoul. Chunks of rotting gray flesh painted the faces of its undead companions in a vile arc. The warrior blitzed through the newly created opening and let out a ferocious battle cry as he charged the largest of them all and prepared for single combat.

Light shined brightly beneath the paladin's feet. He let out a ferocious shout and slammed his armored greave into the ground. The cavern floor cracked underneath the wake of the blow. Trickles of golden energy radiated from the site of the blast. They raced outward into a massive circle exploding with the benevolent power of the light. Rayne bathed in the warm, soothing touch. Adrenaline coursed through every vein in his body. The grip on his blade tightened as the undead came rushing after him.

Terrifying cries of agony echoed throughout the cavern. The Scourge blindly entered the consecrated area and suffered greatly for it. Their flesh burned against the pure glow of the light's golden radiance. While it didn't stop them outright, it did slow their movement considerably and weakened them enough for the paladin to gain the upper hand.

Rayne charged forward. His shield pressed upward bearing the red crest of his namesake. It slammed into the face of the first minion. Bits of green and gray goo sprayed onto the white bulwark. The rotting body slumped lifelessly before the paladin's feet where it was put to rest once more.

Steel sliced viciously into the surrounding air. The blade of the Templar cut through the skulls of three minions with veritable ease. It felt incredibly natural in the paladin's hand as if it were a mere extension of it and bound to the will of his skill and instincts. The weapon that had never seen a day of combat was living up to the legend surrounding it.

Four had fallen quickly but there were still plenty more to contend with. Rayne raised his barrier and blocked the incoming swipe from the undead minion on his left while another received a mouthful of his sword as he drove forward and pierced the back of its throat. The paladin slammed his boot into its chest, freeing his weapon from its decaying lips and preparing his defenses for another wave of attacks.

Rayne couldn't count the number of undead remaining. He didn't have time to flick his goggles into the proper setting either. Everything was happening so fast. His heart rapidly slammed into his breastplate with exceptionally audible thumps.

Another group of Scourge came charging in from the south. The consecrated area slowed them down but didn't stop them outright. If Rayne let up for even a moment, he would instantly become overrun. He needed to give himself some breathing room while also carving out a potential escape route should things take a turn for the worse.

The paladin's shield ripped from his mighty grip as he hurled it outward. Light radiated from every facet of the steel bulwark. It crashed into the skull of the first minion racing from the south devastating its tainted flesh and turning its neck into a melted candle. The barrier bounced onto the next ghoul and sliced through its head as well as the next three others before bounced off the cavern wall and returning to Rayne's awaiting grip.

Surprisingly, combat was still edging in their favor. The paladin was able to hold out for the first few moments but time was not an alley in this encounter. They needed to get what they came for and leave. This was not the moment for either of them to be playing the hero.

"Marcus, we need to leave!" Cried the paladin as he drove his blade into another Scourge skull. The anxiety in his throat was thick. "NOW!"

"Hang on kid!" The warrior fervently replied ducking underneath the massive undead's malicious swipe. "Just give me a minute to line him up."

Marcus side-stepped the follow up swing and lifted his mace over his shoulder. He shouted with feverish passion while driving his mighty weapon into the undead's exposed knee. The cavern quaked against the might of the incredible blow. A revolting howl quickly followed. The creature cried out in what sounded like pain. Its stance shifted and the gargantuan Scourge minion tumbled backwards for several steps.

Light's Vengeance was finally free from the minion's guard. A grin instantly formed on the warrior's lips as he reached forward and seized the hammer in his beefy grip.

"Rayne!" Marcus proudly screamed. "Catch!"

The warrior flung the holy weapon into the air. It sailed across the cavern shimmering in a trail of silver and gold light. The head slammed into the ground just a few feet from where the paladin stood. Rayne marveled at the site before him. Light's Vengeance as a weapon forged with a legacy that was equally impressive as the paladin that was to wield it. As he moved toward it, it began glowing with bright and inspiring light.

Minions of the Scourge stopped in the tracks. They cried in agony before the fallen weapon. Gouts of golden energy began exploding from within the hammer. Every burst slammed into the surrounding ghouls, searing their bodies instantaneously and turning them into ash in the blink of an eye. It was as if the weapon had reacted to Rayne's very presence and called out to him.

The paladin sheathed his blade. He reached out towards the hilt of Light's Vengeance. It was obvious that whatever Darion Mograine was plotting was surely intended to be a blight against the Scourge and their leader was determined to stop it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rayne caught a fast blue streak approaching. He instinctively pulled his hand back as Frostmourne came crashing down on the ground between him and the hammer he desperately sought.

The paladin's eyes went wide. He never expected someone as bulky and massive as the Lich King to move at such an incredible speed. His body was still floating backwards in the wake of his dash as the undead's vile master immediately turned the cursed runeblade and drove it forward.

A sickening slice pierced the air. Rayne let out a blood-curdling roar. His tremendous anguish resonated throughout the entire cave. The Lich King drilled his blade through the paladin's left shoulder between the spaulder and breastplate. His shield arm had been completely devastated and nearly severed at the point of impact. The paladin lacked both the speed and wherewithal to even attempt to block the strike and now suffered greatly for his blunder.

"RAYNE!" The warrior pleaded at the horrible visage playing out before him. Marcus foolishly lowered his guard and a crash of ferocious shadow energy exploded on the ground before him and drove him violently onto the cavern floor several yards away.

Frostmourne peaked out the back of his shoulder nearly a foot in length before being torn out. Blood gushed from the wake of the and stained the paladin's silver armor. He let out another tremendous cry as he fell to his knees paralyzed in torment. Rayne's body quivered unable to move with the constant agony ripping through him. The pain burned with a force of a volcano and yet felt a sickening cold beginning to spread. His head slowly rose trembling in pain as he looked up to the demonic presence bearing down upon him.

"A paladin?"

The Lich King's inquiry was deep and booming. It was as his voice carried with it the thousands of claimed souls contained within his hateful weapon.

"I was once a paladin."

Rayne knew the story all too well. He lost many nights of sleep weeping over the fall of Loredaeron and the betrayal of Arthas Menethil. Now he knelt before the demon that destroyed a kingdom powerless to do anything but ache and listen.

"Do you feel it, mortal?" Beckoned the Lich King. "Death seeps through me, enveloping all that I touch. With just a snap of my finger your soul will languish in damnation for all eternity."

The Lord of the Scourge snapped his blade to the side. Trails of the paladin's freshly squeeze blood stained the gray cavern floor. Runes began to glow along the flat of the sword. A terrifying mist slowly rose from the edge of Frostmourne.

"Get up kid!" The warrior shouted lifting himself up from his own previously prone position. The giant undead minion still loomed behind but Marcus feared no greater threat than the ongoing conversation in the center of the cave.

"I have sacrificed greatly for the power I now wield," the Lich King taunted. "How can your strength compare to my own when you have given nothing for it. What have you ever sacrificed?"

Every word resonated loudly within the paladin's mind. It bore through the utter anguish continuing to torture his body. Sticky crimson fluids continued to spill from the site of the gaping wound and completely stained his left arm in blood. Why he was being taunted in such a fashion was beyond all comprehension. It was almost as if the Lich King was trying to convince him to accept death above any other potential outcome.

"Unless you are _willing_ to give up everything," commanded the Prince of Darkness raising his blade on high. "Your _light_ will never save you."

The very words uttered by the Lich King that were meant to mock snapped Rayne out of his painful trance. He was completely wrong. The light was a savior to all. It was the very thing that protected his allies and loved ones since first stepping foot on this frozen hellscape. The paladin's body burned with a yearning heart for defiance. His unbloodied gauntlet began to swell with gleaming benevolence..

"You will come to serve the Lich King well paladin," he boldly stated. "Just as _he_ did."

Anger swelled within Rayne's mind. The paladin knew he didn't have the speed required to draw his blade but with the radiant golden energy at his side, it wouldn't be necessary. He watched the Lich King raise Frostmourne as high as his demonic arms would stretch. Death stared down upon him. Throughout the humbling visage, Rayne saw a trace flicker of glistening purple strands shining through that instantly soothed his heart and filled it determination.

Light exploded from the paladin's hand. Terrible, horrifically blinding white energy ripped from his palm and painted the cavern in a swell of radiant energy. The Lich King released a chilling grunt as his head swayed and his body was forced to take a step back. Rayne was granted an irrevocable opportunity by the light that could not be squandered.

"MARCUS!" Yelled the paladin at the top of his lungs. "RUN!"

Rayne sprang from his knees and onto his feet. His body was reignited by the uplifting rush of adrenaline raging through his blood. The paladin didn't even give his demonic enemy a passing glance as he seized Light's Vengeance and took off in a dead sprint towards the cavern entrance.

Snow littered the air with every hastened step. The hammer was heavier than Rayne realized. He summoned all of the strength remaining within him to keep it in his grip. Thankfully, the hardened pace of the warrior caught up with him quicker than expected as they ran together in unison towards freedom.

Powerful rays of sunlight painted the path to freedom. Rayne blitzed out the opening into the chilling landscape with the warrior following closely behind. The paladin turned to face the cave once more. His mind snapped with feverish anxiety as the Lich King continued his pursuit. They were in no position to fight him within the cavern and even less so outside in the open where any other wandering threat could add to their ongoing troubles. Their only choice was to flee and if Rayne couldn't stop him outright, he could at least slow the Lord of the Scourge down.

"Take it!" Demanded the paladin has he handed Light's Vengeance to the warrior. "Get to the horses!"

Marcus did as he was told seizing the mighty hammer in his tightened grip. He slung his titansteel forged mace over his shoulder and raced down the abandoned pathway.

The Lich King continued his approach. He was determined to see through to his previous promise of turning Rayne into another one of his minions. As long as there was a drawn breath in his body, the paladin would never submit to his will.

Rayne pointed his gauntlet forward at the top of the cavern entrance and flicked his wrist down. The previously loaded fragmentation rocket popped out of his hand-mounted pyro launcher and exploded from his forearm. The projectile whizzed into the air, crashing directly above the snow covered lip of the entrance, raining down dozens of hefty boulders below. It sealed the entrance almost entirely save for a few scant gaps but it was more than enough to keep the Lich King at bay. At least, for now.

The paladin turned around and made haste towards the horses. With every heavy step the adrenaline fueling his body began to wane and the pain of his wound reemerged. Blood vomited from his shoulder raining down upon the remaining unsullied portions of his armor. A raging inferno screamed from the extremity while a terrible chill clawed at his internals.

Black clouds began forming in the corners of Rayne's eyes. He could see their steeds just ahead. The warrior had mounted his and secured the hammer along the horse's barding.

A smile tried to force its way through the paladin's lips. They had gotten what they came for but nearly paid the ultimate price. As long as they were still breathing, the mission could still be considered a success. Whatever purpose Mograine had for this weapon must have been good if the Lich King saw to personally intervene. This may very well be the moment which begins the turning of the tide in the war against the Scourge and Azeroth had Rayne and Marcus to thank for it.

The paladin came to a hurried stop next to his horse. He tried to climb upon it but his left arm was no longer listening to any commands. Rayne cursed the damned appendage's disobedience in his mind as he slung his only good hand over the barding and pulled himself atop the horse in a frenzy.

"Let's go to Light's Trust!" Marcus commanded while pulling the reigns. "We'll meet up with their commander and secure passage to –"

A loud ringing droned out the rest of the warrior's statement. The paladin shook his head to regain his bearings. Shadows were seeping in all around him. The Lich King must have broken through the rocky barrier and continuing his pursuit. His presence was surely looming nearby. They had to hurry. There wasn't much time left.

Rayne gripped saddle with his right hand and squeezed the horse tightly with his legs. The beast sped off down the pathway between the mountains and raced eastward as instructed.

"Too much flood," the warrior spat. "Going to thrall!"

The paladin couldn't make sense of anything Marcus was saying. The warrior must have been more frightened than he originally let one because he was now rambling incoherently. Rayne could have sworn he heard the name of the Horde's Warchief being shouted but it didn't make any sense. They couldn't slow down. They had to keep going.

"Keep moving!" Rayne desperately cried. "We can't let him catch up!"

The Lich King must be getting closer. He was sapping every trace of strength the paladin had within him but he wasn't about to break the vice-like grip he had on the reigns now. Stopping wasn't an option. It would only lead to their death.

Marcus continued to shout more incomprehensible words in Rayne's direction. His ears began swelling with a deep numbing drawl. The world was getting darker and darker by the second. He couldn't see what lied ahead but knew that it was much better than what trailed behind. The thunderous charge of their steeds continued forward as they blitzed through the trail. A creeping numbness began working its way past the paladin's arm and enveloping his entire body. Anger bellowed through his thoughts. He wasn't about to succumb to the Lich King's will. He'd never betray the light. There were too many people counting on him to give up now.

Suddenly, a familiar image wafted before his eyes. The same purple strands he saw when the Lord of the Scourge towered over him returned to light. It formed into a vaguely oval shape with new details slowly coming forth. Unfortunately, the image instantly dissipated upon the unbridled bucking of his steed.

The horse did not appear to be listening to any of Rayne's commands. It felt as if it were going off trail and trying to climb the lip of the mountain. The paladin could sense his body forcibly leaning over to one side. He squeezed the reigns as tightly as he could. Marcus was shouting something incoherent in Rayne's direction. The darkness continued to creep in from all corners of his visions. They had to keep running. They had to keep moving. The Lich King would soon be here.

Air choked in the paladin's throat. His lungs were no longer pumping any more oxygen. Suddenly, the horse spun into the air. Rayne sensed his body going weightless before he could feel nothing at all until finally becoming entirely consumed by the encroaching black light.


	8. Chapter 7

_The Underbelly_

 _Dalaran_

The pungent stench of decay and mildew permeated the air of this decrepit sewer. Lorelei sensed nausea growing in her belly with every breath she painfully endured. Just above this disgusting looking place was one of the most elegant and masterfully crafted cities she had ever seen. To think that it had such a rotten, sewage-infested hovel lurking below took a large chunk out of its majesty.

Single torches hung upon sconces provided faint light as the young elf continued to lurk about. A few seedy looking lowlifes passed her a quick glance. Compared to their gruff and ragged forms, the young elf definitely looked like she didn't belong. Anger flickered in the back of her eyes. If one of those scoundrels sought fit to try and take advantage of that, they would pay dearly for their folly.

The young elf took a turn down a long, narrow pipeline as previously instructed by the Magistrix. Several more torches standing upon short metal poles guided her through the brick inlaid corridor. The pathway was moist and dirty. Every step she took let out a sticky squishing echo from her thick leather boots. If that atrocious stench was as powerful as initially presented, Lorelei may have to seek out a new pair once she left this horrendous place.

Wooden docks peaked out of the tunnel's end. They split into three short but distinctive trails. A large body of sickly water filled the wide, circular-shaped room. The stench of mold and fungus was notoriously thick and concentrated. Crates, barrels, and other hidden wares lined the walls of each forking path. Dilapidated red cloths hung over the end of each as a makeshift canopy.

This place was practically devoid of all life save for the retched bacteria festering in the pool below. However, at the end of the center wooden walkway, there was a single man standing before a short wooden table. He was draped in green robes outlined on the edges with an oaky brown trim. His face was nearly hidden from view entirely by the deep hood and mask covering everything but his faint emerald eyes.

The young elf was instructed the one she sought would be in this area. With no one else here, she made her powerful strides down the docks towards him. The planks creaked with a sharp sigh as she made her approach. He was leaned over the edge of his table apparently sorting a few small clear vials in an organized pattern atop of it.

"Are you Cinesra?" She boldly asked.

"That depends young lady," he snidely answered while casually pulling away from his work and addressing Lorelei directly. "On who's asking."

The manner in which this human chose to spoke was so sly and debauched. He had a relaxed tone to his words which carried through every breath. It was as if anyone that approached him should either know of his self-perceived legacy and be honored to be in his presence. That irked at the young elf's patience but she knew it was better to take the high road at this point until she got what she was needed from him.

Lorelei retrieved the tiny parchment given to her by the Magistrix. She surrendered it to him with a faint but growing look of disdain saturating her expression. Cinesra gently took the paper from her and tore the seal from her without any fear or regard to the young elf's blunt agitation.

"You're an alchemist, correct?"

"I'm _the_ alchemist, yes," he jested while peering through the short document. His eyes appeared to shimmer in delight upon reading through its contents. "How is that fox Kaelana doing? It's rare for her to be asking me a favor directly."

Cinesra rolled up the parchment and opened one of the empty vials on the table. He stuffed the paper inside and retrieved another small bottle filled with red colored fluid from within his robes. The alchemist poured the contents atop the message and sealed it with the cork. It bubbled and festered for a brief moment before disintegrating everything within.

"She's still as cautious as ever," he snickered while turning his attention back towards the young elf. "But with a beauty like that one, a man will go through great lengths just to get on her good side. And that body has definitely got a lot of those."

That comment poked at Lorelei's waning patience. At least he was forthright about his depravity unlike that lech Templar. She didn't need to utter a single word. The menacing gaze she offered spoke more volumes than anything that was about to be forced out of her throat. Fortunately, the alchemist was adept at reading expressions as he quickly reverted to a more professional tone and mannerisms.

"I take it you're not here on the Kirin Tor's behalf then."

Cinesra stepped behind the table and knelt down. He fiddled through a few things before rising up with a small red box in his hands. It was a simple wooden design with etching in the corners as well as a latch made up of brass. The alchemist popped the box open revealing a flask filled with clear fluid sitting atop black velvet pillow.

"I believe this will suit your needs just fine young lady."

He gently slid the box forward offering the contents to the young elf. Lorelei reached in, picked up the small glass canister and examined it with morbid curiosity.

"That right there is the finest toxin ever made," he confidently declared. "Made from the pollen of Lichbloom and Arthas' Tears plus a few of my own _special_ ingredients, you'll find no better killing agent on this planet."

The young elf gave the container a gentle shake. It slid from side to side with ease almost as if it appeared to be filled with nothing but water. Her expression soon dimmed which Cinesra quickly picked up on.

"How does this work?"

"It's tricky but the delivery method is sound," smiled the alchemist. "This stuff is practically harmless on contact with skin. Hell, you could even imbibe it and walk away with only an upset stomach."

Cinesra peered at the young elf with a menacing expression filling his radiant green eyes.

"However," he brashly continued. "Once this stuff hits your blood, that's when the magic happens."

Lorelei's eyes sharpened as she stared at the contents with renewed interest.

"The spores react differently when they enter the bloodstream. They begin to grow and spread throughout the veins, feeding off all of the nutrients and sapping the victim's strength entirely. A few minutes later, the body grows still and cold unable to do anything other than watch themselves slowly decay until the stuff reaches their brain and shuts it down for good."

With every word this mongrel uttered, the young elf grew exceedingly more anxious. A short smile began forming on her thin lips. This was exactly what she wanted to hear and couldn't wait to see the look on Rayne's face when he was forced to watch that bitch elf slowly writhe in agony.

"It's a slow burn but extremely effective," Cinesra winked. "That is, if you want your victim to suffer before the bite the dust."

"How much?"

The young elf reached for her coin pouch. It contained a few hundred pieces of gold the Horde had offered her as condolences for Jean's death. That money as well as the broadsword on her back were the last two things Lorelei owned to commemorate his legacy. Giving up one to clean up the final stain to it was an easy price to pay.

"This one's on the house," the alchemist winked. "I like the idea of Kaelana owing me one."

That was an irritating statement. Lorelei knew better than anyone else that nothing in life came for free. You had to earn everything through your own cunning and skill. The fact that he was willing to just give away such a potent poison did not sit well with her and only fueled her brooding fury.

"It's been a while since I tasted some sweet elf flesh," he sneered. "Maybe she'll finally –"

Cinesra's head slammed into the table smashing multiple glass vials and scattering their broken fragments across the area. The sharp bits sliced through parts of his green mask. He groaned in agony as blood began spilling from his freshly broken nose and crumpled teeth.

The young elf had enough of his vile tongue. She was thankful her gifted strength had not left her just yet. Lorelei was certainly going to need whatever remained to complete the task at hand but first, she had to deal with the roue squirming underneath her palm.

Crimson liquid painted the table in a thick pool underneath the alchemist's face. The young elf carefully slid the newly acquired toxin into his mouth. His eyes shot wide as it rested inside of his blood-filled orifice with Lorelei's fingers clamping against his cheeks like a vice. The terror filling the alchemist's expression proved at least that this poison was as deadly as he previously boasted.

"You will never use that tongue to taste anything let alone utter another revolting word against my people," she demanded. "And I was never here. Understood?"

Cinesra trembled in her grip. He carefully nodded twice being sure not to agitate the fragile glass flask in his mouth or the young elf who was moments away from shattering it.

Lorelei plucked the vial from his maw and cleaned off the blood and spit staining the outside atop the alchemist's hood. She quickly pocketed it and released the human from her grip. He continued to bellow in pain as delicious new breaths of fresh air were allowed to enter his lungs. Cinesra was hoping to walk out of this deal with the thought of scoring a date with a pretty elf. Now he was happy to leave with his life still intact.

The young elf scoffed as she parted ways with the despicable human. She needed to return to Warsong Hold and prepare for the upcoming battle. Lorelei nearly salivated at the thought of confronting Rayne once more. All of the suffering that would soon be wrought upon him was long overdue. She only hoped his crushed expression staring upon Narula's lifeless body would look much sweeter than the alchemist's whining behind her.

* * *

 _Wintergarde Keep_

 _Dragonblight_

Limitless darkness surrounded the empty area in an endless void. A faint trickle of light seeped through the growing cracks on opposing sides. Brown clouds poured through the newly created entrance. The smell of linens and oak wafted through the blurry air. Soft layers of hey carried the weight of his hefty body while his head rested atop a tuft of cotton.

Familiar purple strings began to pierce through the murky atmosphere. They boldly stood amidst the fuzzy landscape and slowly took shape. Jeweled strands of amethysts colored hair sat atop a lush lavender face. Shimmering silver eyes stared upwards as if lost in thought. Memories began crashing through his conscious. An all too familiar face was sitting beside him.

"Narula…?"

The paladin's vision was engrossed in a sea of violet and pastel colors. The night elf collapsed on top of him, gently gripping him in a tender embrace.

"Raymond!"

Her soft lavender skin brushed up against Rayne's cheek lighting up his nerves with utter pleasure. The fragrant scent of flowers was still as vivid as ever. This all too delectable feeling would normally send his conscious into panic but his body appeared to be numb and heavy. She continued to clutch the paladin's body pouring her delighted emotions on top of him without worry or fear.

Rayne stared upon the roof of this unfamiliar place. The room was simple in design and decoration. A single dresser and nightstand with nothing more than a tankard atop it stood on opposing sides near an adjacent door. The bed was a bit small but comfortable enough to not outright complain.

The night elf slowly lifted herself from atop of Rayne's lying body. Her face was puffy and thicker than usual. Soft pink patches lingered underneath the gentle glow of her silver eyes. Narula looked as if she was battling a cold of some sort. The paladin had many questions circulating his mind and was desperate for answers.

"What happened?"

Rayne slowly rose from the pillow only to be met with the night elf's slender but firm hand pressing upon his chest.

"Be still Raymond," she begged. "You have not fully recovered from your previous injuries. Your body requires more rest."

The paladin gave himself a quick examination. Bandages were wrapped around his chest, shoulder and head. There was an odd stiffness coming from his left side. His hands appeared to be functioning without restraint but it was as if he was being bound to one position. Perhaps the wrappings were too tight but oddly enough, he didn't feel any pain resonating from underneath the linen dressings.

Narula looked upon the paladin briefly before turning her gaze away from him once more. She stared at the wall where the bed was pressed against and softly spoke.

"Marcus sent word of what had transpired."

The night elf placed her slender hand atop Rayne's and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I rushed over as soon as I could. We didn't know if you were going to make it."

Narula's words grew greyer with every breath. She was being oddly cryptic as if avoiding the details altogether. Her head sulked spilling the delicate strands of hair over her face and masking her expression entirely. Through the silken amethyst barrier, she let out a faint whisper.

"Why must you keep doing this to me Raymond?"

The paladin's heart rocked. It was the first time he could sense his pulse since awakening and it was pumping at maximum capacity. After his confession and the rejection that followed, there was an unspoken awkwardness that seemed to permeate the air with every meeting since. However, in this moment shared between them and only them, it oddly felt as if things were finally returning to normal. This may have been Narula's subtle way of attempting to reconcile but it still couldn't bury the memories of that dreaded afternoon.

Sadness fell upon his chest and grew in size and mass. Rayne knew no matter how hard he tried or whatever presence dared to stand between them he couldn't live without her. Sadly, neither of them would be able to keep this up for long and he was soon be forced to learn how to. It wasn't fair to her and it wasn't fair to him. This would have to be the first step the paladin would take in letting her go and if his heart and current condition were any indication, it was going to be the biggest challenge he had faced yet.

Rayne gave the night elf's hand a gentle squeeze. Her head jerked to the side, further hiding her expression from view. Perhaps Narula had gotten the message of his feelings. He wasn't just thanking her. The paladin was trying to say goodbye to a lifetime spent harboring a one-sided affection.

Two stiff knocks erupted from the door. Narula quickly released her hand from the paladin's grip, stood up and rushed to answer their visitor.

Wood creaked as the door opened. Standing in the doorway was the muscular and imposing presence of a familiar warrior with a hefty brown sack slung upon his shoulder.

"Hey," he greeted addressing Narula. "How's the patient to–"

Marcus' words were silenced upon peering in the paladin's direction and locking his gaze upon his piercing blue eyes.

"Holy shit!" He spat. "You're finally awake?!"

The warrior rushed over and stood looming over Rayne with a mix of joy and concern filling his eyes.

"I can't believe it!" Smiled Marcus. "You really had us worried there for a while kid. We've been watching you sleep in that bed for three days. I didn't think you were going to pull through."

"Pull through?"

The paladin raised an eyebrow. Marcus paid the night elf an equally confused look hoping to get some more clarification.

"His memory still appears to be hazy," commented Narula. "I'm sure it'll return in time."

"Yeesh," the warrior sulked. "I can't even."

His words were silenced as the life from his face dropped. Marcus looked upon the paladin with a somber gaze.

"Rayne," he began. "I don't even know what to say."

It appeared as if the warrior were at a total loss for words but soon enough, Marcus found the ones he was looking for.

"Let me at least start by saying I'm sorry. Had I known what was going to happen I would have never gone myself let alone dragged you with me."

Bolts of lightning cracked within Rayne's mind. He wasn't fully certain but could sense that he had never heard the warrior utter that phrase in the length of their relationship. Marcus carried about an aura of great wisdom hidden underneath his brash exterior. For him to offer such a sincere apologize must have meant something serious transpired which only pecked at the paladin's curiosity even more.

"Why?" Rayne casually posed. "What happened?"

"A damn miracle, that's what," laughed the warrior. "I don't think I'd ever seen someone spill that much blood and lived to tell about it."

The paladin continued to gaze upon Marcus inquisitively as he continued.

"After you fell off the horse, I threw you atop mine and raced to Light's Trust for some quick triage. They were as shocked as I was when I told them what happened. We patched you up as best as we could and stopped the bleeding but at that time you were barely breathing. We rushed you down here to Wintergarde, set you up with a room at the inn, and I was finally able to get in touch with someone to get you the help you needed that I couldn't deliver."

The warrior passed a quick glance in the night elf's direction before continuing.

"Narula was the first to respond. She reached out to Cayden for quick transport and luckily got here within moments of the message's arrival. Hell, I don't think she's even left this room since."

Rayne peeked at the night elf once more. Her back was pressed against the open door and she was clutching her elbow keeping her eyes averted the entire time. It was the same look Narula shared when she rejected him. The painful memories aside, somehow, the night elf had a different air about her this time; one the paladin couldn't exactly pinpoint but was desperately attempting to find an answer.

"Don't worry kid," shrugged Marcus. "I've already got an earful from her about it. Never seen someone get so angry before let alone Narula. It was almost like she was a different person."

The warrior sulked where he stood.

"Still can't believe I lost that bet."

"Huh?" Rayne quizzically sighed.

"Oh crap," grunted Marcus. "I was only here to check on you and see if you're up yet. I've got a meeting with our old buddy back in Dalaran to drop this thing off."

The warrior shook the heavy brown bag with a big smile.

"What is that?" Asked the paladin.

"Wow," Marcus shockingly stated. "You must have really taken a tumble off that horse kid."

The bag fell from the warrior's shoulder and landed upon the ground with a hefty thud.

"I met with Darion this morning and gave him what he was looking for. As soon as he had it in his hands I could have sworn I saw the old him peering through that spiked helm."

A dejected look of apprehension crossed the warrior's brow as he continued.

"After all that we've been through, I demanded to know what he intended to do with this deadly piece of history," said Marcus as his expression soured. "When I heard his answer, let's just say I was a little more than slightly miffed and I'm sure you'd be too."

The paladin was starting to get annoyed with all of this cryptic talk and vague explanations.

"I couldn't let him taint something that you nearly gave your life to retrieve so, I called in a few favors and got in touch with our old friend to see if we can do one better. I just hope his nose isn't as adept for negotiating as it is for getting into trouble."

Marcus bid Narula farewell with a quick nod and headed through the doorway. Before he was out of sight, the warrior turned and glanced at Rayne once more.

"I'm sure our guests downstairs will be happy to know that you're up," he smiled. "I'll tell them the good news."

The paladin's head was starting to throb. Whatever soothing numbness that had dulled his injuries prior had waned. His mind was a thick cloud of haze. Small details would come to life, flashing before his eyes for a brief moment and then disappearing altogether. The only thing that seemed to persist through the storm encapsulating his memories centered all around the night elf standing before him. It still hurt to think about the times to come but no matter how much he begged his will to resist, Rayne's heart continued to call out to her.

Hastened footsteps rustled along the wooden floor just outside the room. Two humans adorned in luminous white robes with trimmed black edges and golden spaulders quickly entered the doorway. Their radiant silver hair shined in the faint sunlight peeking through the nearby window. They were identical in nearly every way save for the thin circular glasses sitting atop the male's face. The female carried a small plate with a metal dome on top hiding its contents.

Another thump beat underneath the paladin's chest as he instantly recognized the Legend siblings starting back at him as if they were staring upon a ghost.

"Samuel?" Rayne sighed. "Zariyana? What are you –"

"By the light!" The male twin interrupted.

"You're alive!" His sister finished.

The Legend twins rushed over to the paladin. He'd never seem them acting so daring in all the years he's known them. Normally they'd be stiff and uptight, as unmoving as the mountains along the ridges of the Burning Steppes but for a brief moment, the two nobles acted as if they were anything but.

"How are you feeling?" Posed the male priest. "Are you having any trouble breathing? What about your head? Are there any lingering – "

"Calm down Samuel," his sister ordered. "He's just woken up. Allow him some time to catch his breath before you attempt to snatch it away from him."

The male Legend twin looked stunned. He couldn't argue with the logic presented by his female sibling nor did he appear to want to. With so many thoughts traversing through his mind, finding the most appropriate was proving to be an unbeatable challenge.

"My apologies Rayne," he lamented. "We were so astonished when we had heard what transpired, I just – "

Samuel stopped himself for before his emotions ran thick. If there was one thing he was good at other than gathering knowledge, it was keeping his feelings tightly guarded.

"I wanted to confirm for myself before making any hasting conclusions," the male twin stated. "Please forgive my selfishness."

"Don't worry about it," smiled Rayne. "I appreciate the concern."

The paladin was still having trouble focusing his vision but he could have sworn he saw Samuel briefly smirking before returning to his calm and more reserved expression. A tranquil silence filled the room that was encroaching on the uncomfortable side. The female priest noticed this more than anyone and sought to remedy that as best as she could.

"Narula, you look dreadful," Zariyana commented. "Why don't you take a few moments and wash your face? We'll look after Rayne in the meantime."

The night elf snuck a quick glance back at the paladin. He could sense the reluctance in her eyes but before it grew any larger, Narula offered a smile in return.

"Thank you Zariyana," she softly spoke. "I shall only be a few moments."

Zariyana had no idea what she was talking about. The night elf looked incredible. Her eyes radiated a majestic beauty the likes of which no other creature on Azeroth could match. Unfortunately, her continued presence pained the paladin more than any wound he's ever received on the battlefield. For the first time in his life, Rayne was thankful to have some time apart away from the one who had stolen and subsequently crushed his heart even if for only a brief period.

The night elf walked out of the room quietly without another passing glance. Her footsteps gently echoed in the distant hallway and soon faded completely. In spite of his previous feelings, watching her leave did not make the paladin feel any better. Fortunately, there were still plenty of lingering questions that needed answers. Rayne was confident that he could bury himself in those for the time being as an ample distraction.

"How long have you guys been waiting for me?"

The female Legend twin let out of soft sigh before setting the plate in her hands down on top of the nearby nightstand next to the tankard. She took a seat on the newly vacant chair next to the bed and placed her hand atop the paladin's forehead

"He's a bit warmer than he should be," said Zariyana. "I don't believe it to be serious but we cannot be too careful either."

"I'll see if there is an herbalist nearby," replied Samuel. "Perhaps I can produce a remedy that will quell his fever as well as restore his strength. I brought my herbalism kit with me for such a reason. It shouldn't take too long if they have the herbs I require."

"Always playing the doctor my dear brother," the female priest said quietly while smiling to herself. "Thank you."

Samuel nodded and made a hasty exit. Everyone's behavior was pecking at Rayne's curiosity. While it was welcomed to see such care and support amongst his friends, it somehow seemed off from their normal mannerisms. With only the priest left in the room with him, now was the perfect time to start getting some answers.

"Why is everyone so concerned with me today?" The paladin inquisitively questioned.

"Are you serious Rayne?" Zariyana replied with a raised eyebrow. "Do you not remember anything at all from what happened?"

Rayne dejectedly shook his head. It was as if he were the butt of some joke the rest of the world was in on but no one wanted to share.

"It's been the talk of the land for quite some time," smiled Zariyana. "Rumors have been running rampant, more so that I would have initially anticipated. Many people have been curious to hear the story first hand. Your growing reputation and deeds continue captivate Azeroth."

The excessive boasting was starting to make the paladin's head swell more so than it already was due to the prior injuries. Perhaps the bandage was a little too tight but Rayne never expected to hear such praise from Zariyana of all people.

"It's truly incredible to think about," she finished while staring upon the ceiling. "Not many people have ever encountered the Lich King directly let alone tasted his blade and lived to tell about it."

A chaotic bolt of menacing thunder cracked upon the paladin's conscious. Rayne flew up from the pillow and clutched his throbbing skull. All the memories from his recent encounter came roaring forward like a tsunami. Suddenly, everything became as clear as day: the search for Light's Vengeance, their battle with the dreaded Lord of the Scourge and his minions, as well as the impalement the paladin had woefully succumbed to courtesy of the runeblade known as Frostmourne. That cursed weapon was responsible for the downfall of an entire kingdom claiming thousands of souls in its wake and nearly took Rayne's along with it.

Nausea filled the paladin's chest. It was as if his organs had been turned into liquid in the blink of an eye. He quickly thrust himself over the edge of the bed, reached for the chamber pot underneath and spewed every trace of matter and bile that was left in his system. There wasn't much of anything after not eating for three days but what remained burned his throat with unbridled ferocity.

"Rayne!" The panicked priest cried out as a tender hand landed upon Rayne's back. She reached for the nightstand and retrieved the lone tankard. Zariyana gave him a few gentle pats while carefully passing the mug in his direction. "Here, drink this."

The paladin graciously seized the large cup and poured the contents down without hesitation. The cool water helped quell the raging inferno stinging inside his mouth. Such a bland, flavorless substance never tasted so sweet.

A few cough's exited Rayne's lips as he finished drinking. Zariyana casually reached over and slid the chamber pot back out from underneath him. She carried it to the door without so much as a word and placed it on the outside wall.

The paladin returned the tankard on the nightstand and fell upon his pillow once more. Reliving those horrifying moments against the Lich King was all his mind could process. As much as he didn't want to see that baleful demonic presence or hear sickening rending of his flesh by the cursed sword, something else was thankfully attempting to distract him. Rayne didn't notice it immediately but the priest had not only watched him vomit but actually helped clean it up. That certainly wasn't the behavior of a noble and far beyond anything the paladin would have ever bared witness to form someone like Zariyana.

Pain continued to resonate on the paladin's left side. His shoulder was tight and unable to move his arm freely. He collapsed his right arm atop his forehead and stared aimless above. Zariyana returned to the seat next to the bed and folded her hands over her knees.

"Do all of the Knights know what happened?" Rayne casually asked.

The priest nodded.

"I believe the entirety of Azeroth heard about what transpired between you and the Lich King," she answered. "Marcus has quite the mouth on him after all."

Rayne groaned. The thought of having to quell the rumors from the warrior's likely embellishment of their encounter amongst all the other soldiers was going to wear on his patience.

"What about the Argent Crusade?" The paladin inquired. "Did they –"

The priest nodded once more.

"They were concerned as well," she softly said. "The Highlord was starting to have reservations about our mission. However, I'm sure he will be pleased when word of your recovery reaches him. Weasel is stationed at the Argent Vanguard as we speak. I believe, in his own insolent manner of speaking, he wished to give Darion Mograine and his intelligence officer some lessons in proper protocol for overlooking such a monumental piece of information."

That was somewhat relieving to hear. The gnome's work with SI:7 was legendary if at least half of the rumored events were proven to be true. He knew a thing or two about information gathering and maintaining confidentiality. The Argent Crusade was lucky to have him in their midst.

They weren't the only ones who were fortunate. Rayne looked upon his silver-haired companion and couldn't help but replay the last few moments they spent together in his mind.

"Thank you Zari," the paladin smiled. "Please forgive me for making you worry. I know you don't like it when I apologize but I really appreciate all of your help."

The priest returned with a short but bright smirk.

"Think nothing of it Rayne."

Her gentle hand fell onto his. For the first time since he had awoken, Rayne was starting to have a little peace of mind. There was still a week until the attack was scheduled to begin and with Narula's and Zariyana's assistance, he should be able to make a fully recovery by then.

Quakes began trembling along the paladin's midsection. The extended period of rest was starting to wane on what remained of his stored energy. After spewing what was left a few moments, earlier, his body was begging to be refueled.

"I'm sorry," he begrudgingly sighed. "I guess it's been a while since I –"

The paladin's words were cut off as Zariyana reached over to the nightstand and retrieved the plate. She removed the silver dome sitting on top and returned it back to the wooden table. The sweet smell of cinnamon wafted in the nearby air. Thinly sliced pieces of apple no thicker than a dagger's blade were skinned and arranged in a harmonious circular pattern. A small silver fork rested off to the side. The priest took it between her thumb and forefinger, pierced the flesh of the ripe white fruit and drew it towards Rayne's lips.

"Zari?!" Gasped the paladin while sliding upwards from the bed and resting his back against the wall. "You don't have to do that. I've –"

"You need to regain your strength," she protested. "Do not waste what's left on something so trivial."

Redness began swelling within Rayne's cheeks. He begged it to stop and tried to coolly escape this harrowing situation with at least some manner of pride still intact.

"Didn't I put you guys on leave for the next seven days?" Posed the paladin. "I'm not the only one that needs to rest before our upcoming battle."

"Are you still spouting that nonsense?" Zariyana countered while unflinchingly keeping the fruit near it's intended destination. "You've always placed others before yourself. Do you think I'd even entertaining the thought of abandoning you in your time of need?"

There was a surprising absence of scorn and malice in her voice. Her lustrous gold eyes and softened demeanor had an aura of genuineness the likes of which the paladin had never seen before in most humans let alone a notoriously stuck up noble like Zariyana.

Rayne couldn't argue any further nor did he want to. He submitted and opened wide as instructed taking the piece of fruit wholly into his mouth and giving it a good crunch. His tongue was instantly infused with the powerful spices of nutmeg and cinnamon. It was a nostalgic taste that he would have never thought to enjoy so far away from home.

"Hey, are these," the paladin gleefully said while chewing. "Melanie's cider apples?"

Zariyana smiled brightly and nodded. She immediately caught herself before it turned into a grin and turned to the side. The priest's eyes stared outwardly near the window but she occasionally snuck a glance or two in his direction.

"I thought you would be hungry for something a little more sentimental than what is being served in these lands. My brother has often researched theories about stress hindering the body's ability to regenerate wounds."

She returned her gaze to his warm blue eyes and offered a delicate smile.

"After everything that has happened," the priest coyly continued. "I wanted to you to have something a nice for a change."

She served him another slice which he happily indulged.

"How did you even manage to bring them here?"

"I asked Cayden for assistance," answered Zariyana. "He was able to bring me to Menethil rather quickly where I sought out your favored apples. He's been very busy arranging quick transportation for us all. He even helped me carry the crate back here."

"You bought a whole crate?!" Rayne gasped which was quickly silenced by another scrumptious slice of apple entering his mouth once more.

She nodded joyfully.

"I know how much you enjoy them," smiled the priest. "And wanted to make sure you had plenty to regain your strength."

Something was a bit out of sorts but oddly enough, in a good way. Zariyana's behavior and attitude as of late has seemingly evolved since their first and subsequent encounters. She was even calling the rest of the Templar Knights by their actual names and not the callous nicknames they had previously entitled them with. Perhaps Zariyana was feeling the subsequent pressure of their oncoming mission or she was trying hard to make him feel better while they sat alone together. Either way, it warmed the paladin's heart to see her acting less like a noble, and more like the girl he had danced with for hours on end so many years ago.

"You spoil me Zari," chuckled Rayne. "Thank you."

"You deserve it Rayne," she smiled back.

The paladin continued to eat blissfully in her presence. It was as if the weight of everything had washed off his shoulders and traveled to a place his mind would not soon return to. Zariyana was devoted and very sweet. She was slowly proving Rayne's previous words were correct. Anyone can change if given the right motivation. This may not have been what his heart had been yearning for in the last two decades but it was still very nice.

A rustling at the door caught Rayne's attention. He peaked over and caught the night elf staring over at him. She turned away quickly, not looking upon him for more than the blink of an eye, and was clutching her elbow timidly.

"Narula?" The paladin asked with a short smile. "Back al-"

"Excuse me."

The night elf disappeared past the doorway. Her steps echoed through the hallway. Rayne wanted to call out to her but the words never found the way to his throat. There was definitely something odd about her behavior as of late as well. It was faint and only appeared briefly but Rayne could have sworn he saw Narula flinch.

* * *

 _The Violet Citadel_

 _Dalaran_

"You are late!" The dwarf snapped. "You think I like waiting for ya here all day? I've got me own business to handle and don't have the luxury to be spending my time sitting around these parts chatting it up with you."

"Yeesh," Marcus sighed. "That's a little cold coming from you after we did you such a big _favor_ a couple week back."

Brann Bronzebeard was renowned the world over for his exploits and adventures throughout Azeroth. His latest adventure had he diving into the depth of the Titan city known as Ulduar to quell the maddening influence of a recently freed Old God known as Yogg-Saron. After being abandoned by the Horde and Alliance, the Templar Knights gathered and came to the dwarf's aid. Now he stood here amongst mages in the Kirin Tor's base of operations answering the warrior's call.

"Some favor," Brann grunted. "I'll have you know there was something even more terrifying waiting for us on the other side of that damned fortress. I'd a never agreed to let you walk out of there had I known then what I know now!"

"Hey," protested the warrior. "We did exactly as you asked and put that fanged bastard back in its cage. What more do you want from us?"

The dwarf spat and mumbled quietly to himself before he continued.

"Just count your blessings that I was easily able to recruit some more volunteers as soon as your buddy Templar was finished," he stated. "Took more of them than I thought and a way bigger threat than that blasted Old God, that's for sure!"

"Just because you have a thirst for trouble doesn't mean we're going to willingly drink the same Kungaloosh," relented Marcus. "Besides, did you think those other bums could have done the job we did in cleaning out the entire place for you?"

Brann clenched his fist but suddenly let out a dejected sigh.

"Maybe so," he stated. "But I do owe you, Templar, and the others for their assistance so I'll bite me tongue just this one time."

"I always love negotiating with dwarves," grinned the warrior. "They've got so much pride you'd never let a favor go unpaid."

"Well that _favor_ is the only reason I'm here so let's get on with it."

The warrior smiled and placed the large brown sack over his shoulder between him and Brann. It landed with a deep thud and peaked

"What's that?"

"That is a trinket," he replied. "Maybe a relic even. That should pique your interest."

The dwarf carefully opened the bag and stared upon the majestic golden metal lying within.

"By the makers," gasped Brann. "What is it?"

The warrior couldn't hold back his grin.

"That is Light's Vengeance," he replied. "At least, what's left of it anyways."

The dwarf removed the large steel chunk from the brown sack and began examining it carefully. It was golden all throughout but hollow. This piece appeared to sit at the top of the staff where the head of the hammer would rest in between. The gleaming gold and blue lion of the proud Alliance simple was clearly visible on both sides.

Brann flipped the piece over several times before raising an eyebrow. He kicked the sack with the end of his stiff leather boot and confirmed it was empty.

"Where's the rest of it?" He casually asked. "What did you do to it?"

"I didn't do shit," Marcus shrugged. "We were asked to get it on behalf of Darion Mograine."

"Mograine?" Sneered the dwarf. "What does a demon like that want with such a holy weapon?"

The warrior scoffed as the memories flooded in.

"Can you believe it?" He answered. "That young prick wanted to melt it down entirely and turn it into some blighted weapon for the damned. For some reason, that kid is convinced the only way we're going to beat the Lich King is if we fight fire with fire. All he's doing is trying to create a pale imitation of that damn runeblade."

"Why is this piece here and not with the rest of it then?"

"I couldn't let the kid just destroy Light's Vengeance and taint the damn thing to suit his purposes," the warrior spoke. "Not after all we went through to get it. We traded words but I finally convinced him not to wreck all of it and save me that piece."

"So?" Brann curiously inquired. "What do you want me to do with this?"

Marcus' smile faded from view. His eyes stared deeply into the remaining piece of Light's Vengeance that was spared from the cruel fate awaiting the rest of it. The Alliance symbol meant more to him than most others. He had fought in the first war and every war since bearing that proud logo upon his chest. It deserved to be carried by someone who still gives a damn about it and the people it protects.

"We're preparing to assault Icecrown next week."

"I've heard about it," the dwarf interrupted. "My brother's the one that's gonna be commanding the Skybreaker during your mission."

"Really?" The warrior's expression brightened. "That should make this easy then seeing as he has a history with this particular weapon."

"Don't I know it," replied Brann. "All he's been talking about is paying that bastard Arthas back for what he did to him. He can't wait to get his mits around his neck for leaving him out there to die!"

Marcus couldn't stop himself from smiling this time. It was getting easier than he originally anticipated.

"Then he should be very eager to hear what I have in mind."

"Oh yea?" The dwarf intently asked. "And what may that be?"

The warrior steeled himself. If Light's Vengeance were going to do any real good in this world, it was going to have to be wielded in the right hands by the one worthy enough to uphold and even surpass its legacy.

"I want you to take what's left of this hammer to Ironfroge and convince your brother, the King, to crack open that big anvil of his and make something that's worth wielding into our fight against the Scourge as he did for Darion's father all those years back."

Brann had a curious mind that exceeded all others before and would long after. The warrior knew just the words to say to get him invested.

"You've had my curiosity," he smiled. "Now you have my attention."


	9. Chapter 8

_Wintergarde Keep_

 _Dragonblight_

The steel gauntlet made a resounding click as it was fastened into place over Rayne's hand. Each and every plate was securely locked into its proper place. The paladin felt at ease donning this suit once more. Even after all the battles it has seen, the armor rested atop his skin as if it were the first day it had been crafted. Zariyana once again did a wonderful job finding a good blacksmith to repair the damages from his previous encounter. That was just one more thing he owed the priest for all of her assistance thus far.

Rayne looked into the mirror and steeled his gaze. His radiant blonde hair was tied neatly in a firm ponytail with his trusted engineering goggles resting firmly atop his forehead. The assault on Icecrown Citadel was to commence in just a few hours. Azeroth was finally ready to engage the heart of evil itself by attacking at the Lich King's fortress directly and all of the vile minions that await them within. The paladin stared back into the eyes of the warrior of the light peering back at him and knew he was ready; he only hoped the rest of his body was as confident as his mind.

The burning itch in his shoulder had vanished nearly completely. Rayne could move his arm freely without stiffness or pain. However, the appendage was not battle tested after recovering from the grievous injury. There's no telling what could happen in the thick of combat and that thought weighed heavily in his mind as he prepared himself for the upcoming battle.

The paladin took a knee, brought his hands together and offered a prayer to the light. He asked to be bestowed with both the power and wisdom to overcome their adversaries during this dreaded assault. As the Vanguard unit, it was their responsibility to clear the way for the rest of the Argent Crusade's forces to strike directly at the Lich King and his massive army. There was no room for failure. Rayne was going to need a lot more than luck to get him through this one. He just hoped the light was as kind and just as he had known it to be since dedicating his life to serving it.

A pair of gentle knocks echoed from the door. The paladin completed his prayer and rose from his knee. That was the signal. It was no use delaying the inevitable. All of his friends would be waiting for him at the gates of Icecrown. There wasn't a moment to spare.

Rayne reached for the mighty bulwark bearing the Templar crest and secured the long leather strap across his chest. He took the blade of the Templar resting against the nearby wall. The scabbard was fastened tightly at his waist. The paladin's heart thumped with great anticipation. Azeroth was putting the burden of its fate upon his shoulders once more and he was ready to take up that mantle. It was his duty for those that would fight beside him, for those that would fight behind him, and for those who could not fight for themselves.

The door slowly opened. Rayne's heart nearly stopped in place as the visage of a night elf came into view. Her smooth teal hair was wrapped in a neat ponytail similar to the paladin's own. She was wearing a clean linen blouse and thick black skirt that descended all the way down to her ankles. While it wasn't the night elf Rayne had come to know throughout his entire life, the innkeeper Illusia Lune was a still a familiar and welcomed face.

"Excuse me," she softly began.

The night elf's shimmering silver eyes averted staring at the paladin directly. She seemed agitated and a bit timid which drew on Rayne's growing suspicions.

"You –," stammered Illusia. "You have a visitor."

Rayne peered over the night elf's shoulder. The hallway was completely empty.

"I don't see any –"

"They," the night elf carefully interrupted. "They are waiting outside for you."

This scenario was getting odder with each passing moment. Rayne was curious as to why the innkeeper was acting anxiously. He kept his arm atop the hilt of his longsword as they walked through the hallway. Whoever had called the paladin must have had a pretty good excuse for not coming inside directly.

As they walked through the inn, a pattering of voices could be heard just outside. It grew louder as the paladin approached. Voices of all kinds and manners of speaking were engaged in a fevering discussion. Illusia stopped just before the inn's entrance, bowed and motioned towards the door with her palm facing upward.

"Ishnu-alah," she said offering a short smile.

The paladin nodded and carefully opened the door. His grip on the sword tightened as the entrance revealed the snow covered base of Wintergarde. The sun shined brightly from the peak of the sky to the frozen lands below.

Dozens of citizens and soldiers alike were gathered just outside the inn. They stood in awe before a gigantic red beast with long white wings. Rayne's heart nearly beat through his chestplate as he locked his gaze on a majestic red dragon for the first time. The creature stood nearly twenty-feet tall in its resting pose and towered above the crowd surrounding him. Their eyes met immediately as the paladin began his careful approach.

"Raymond Templar?"

The very uttering of his name sent shock waves blitzing through the paladin's conscious. Each of the gathered residents of Wintergarde shared in his bewilderment. Not only was this dragon a sight beyond which more people have rarely encountered, but this one actually speaks.

"I'm Raymond Templar," the paladin answered as he waded through the crowd.

All of the surrounding citizens and soldiers quickly parted upon hearing that name and allowed him quick and direct passage towards the dragon. Rayne could sense a similar anxiety amongst them as shared by the innkeeper inside. If he wanted to ease their hearts and minds, it was in the paladin's best interest to resolve this quickly and get on with his upcoming mission.

Dragons have been known for both their temper and wisdom. Rayne wasn't sure which one he was dealing with here but based on the fact that there wasn't a trace of blood or panic spilling into the air, caution was not needed.

"What can I do for you?"

The red dragon's wings slowly opened and released a powerful flap. Everyone other than the paladin himself gasped and proceeded to flee with great haste. Rayne was a bit confused at first but quickly realized that the dragon was not readying for an attack but actually stretching his wings.

"My name is Nethestrasz," the dragon stated. "I have sought you out on behalf of the Wyrmrest Accord."

The paladin's brow furrowed as he peered deeply at the dragon. This didn't make any sense. The Wyrmrest Accord was a union of the dragonflights within Azeroth. Though they were powerful and wise, Rayne was not informed they had any involvement with the assault on Icecrown Citadel which makes their presence here all the more intriguing.

"Why does the Wyrmrest Accord wish to speak with me?"

The dragon let out a loud grunt. Two puffs of smoke billowed from his large nostrils.

"You have been summoned Raymond Templar," Nethestrasz boldly declared. "The Life-Binder herself wishes to speak with you. And I will bring you to her."

The paladin gulped as he tasted one last good breath in Wintergarde. By the manner of which this dragon spoke, something told him he was going to be very, very late.

* * *

 _Ogrim's Hammer_

 _Icecrown_

Dozens of Horde soldiers gathered around the wooden deck of the decorated airship. The chilling atmosphere of the gray landscape did little to affect their mood or work. Steel scraped loudly as they sharpened their weapons over large bricks of whetstones. They affixed their armor and grunted loudly as they prepared for the upcoming battle.

The young elf marveled over the site of this colossal vehicle. It was decorated in typical Horde fashion. Spikes and blades protruded from port to starboard along the edges of the ship. A giant wolf's head carved out of iron hung at the bow with a massive cannon protruding out of its mouth. Two open magazines loaded gargantuan rounds of ammunition into the gun just behind the creature's skull. Each shell was wider than even the beefiest orc on deck and much taller than a troll if they bothered to stand fully upright. A pair of giant red balloons adorned with barbs and spears gave the airship flight while several rotors and fans on the lower decks propelled it forward. It all culminated with a large red symbol of the Horde circling above the stairs leading to the inner parts of the ship where the Overlord stood giving orders to his surrounding troops.

Lorelei sat near the aft portion of the airship away from all the other soldiers. She was still within an earshot of Saurfang and could hear him barking commands every so often but paid no attention unless her name had been specifically called out. The ship was parked just outside the massive saronite fortress known as Icecrown Citadel. Hundreds of soldiers donning tabards with a golden sun in the center of a silver crest stood outside the gates. In front of them, a smaller contingent force bearing that vile red cross that had become the bane of the young elf's existence were stationed at the forefront of the entire army. She scanned the entire field three times over. Her heart yearned to find sight of the blonde bastard that has wrought such misery in her existence but found no traces of the despicable paladin anywhere on the battlefield.

Tensions were growing thick aboard the airship. Lorelei muddled over the thoughts of extracting her revenge over and over to help quell the growing anxiety. While the other soldiers were sharpening their blades and strapping on their armor, the young elf took solace in the fact that she had a special little trinket that would bring her so much pleasure while delivering much more suffering.

From within her belt pouch, Lorelei retrieved the small vial of poison. She carefully took it in her hands and drew and arrow from her quiver. The young elf placed the clear flask carefully between her legs. She drew her thumb along the razor-sharp edge of the arrow's head and cleanly sliced her flesh. Blood quickly pooled and she ran it along the feathering, painting it in a deeper crimson color than the other arrows resting against her back. This was to ensure that she could easily identify this special projectile amongst the others.

Lorelei pressed her thumb against the leather strips of armor over her thigh for a few moments to seal the wound. She pulled out a small piece of cloth with her uninjured hand cautiously opened the vial with the scrunched up rag resting atop the opening. With a quick flick of her wrist, she soaked the linen with the poison taking extra precautions not to touch the substance itself with her bare hands. Despite the previous advice from the alchemist about this liquid being safe on skin, the young elf didn't want to risk any unnecessary exposure with a fresh wound nearby.

With the cloth adequately soaked, she smoothly ran the poison along the flat and edge of the arrowhead. The liquid coated the steel and left an ominous shine. Lorelei made sure to run over the entire area thoroughly with every drop of poison available. The arrow was more than adequately covered within a few moments and the young elf quickly noticed the vial was still half full. She returned the arrow to the quiver and tucked whatever remained of the poison back into the pouch. If this stuff worked as advertised, one would surely be enough to take out that atrocious elf but it wouldn't hurt to have a backup plan in case Templar's suffering at her demise wasn't to Lorelei's liking.

The young elf hopped off the edge of the ship and made her way towards the center. She could easily hear the Overlord speaking with one of his orcish subordinates dressed in lighter armor than the rest of the soldiers on board. His attire reminded Lorelei of an elven scout though he was still much to wide and muscular to move around as elegantly and stealthy as her kin. She reached the edge of the Horde crest and listened closely to the words being traded between the two.

"The Highlord is commencing his attack in a few moments," reported the scout.

Saurfang let out a confused grunt followed by a short snarl.

"And what of Templar and his guild?" He anxiously groaned. "Have they reported to the battlefield?"

Loud beats pumped within Lorelei's chest upon hearing that name uttered once again. She quickly clutched it hoping to silence the noise as anger brewed within her mind teething with the thought of imminent revenge.

"We've verified most of his men have arrived," the orc subordinate answered. "However, there is no sign of Rayne Templar anywhere within Icecrown."

The thundering in the young elf's chest grew louder. She carefully peered over the crest to get a better view of the conversation taking place. Lorelei wanted to see the Overlord's emotions in response to this dreaded news. If Templar wasn't going to show up here than everything she'd done up to this point would be all for naught.

"That can't be right," Saurfang puzzlingly replied. "How can the Vanguard act without its commander?"

"Rumor has it that he had suffered a life-threatening injury several days ago," the scout added. "Templar may already be dead but even if he survived, I doubt he'll be in any condition to lead the assault as planned."

Blood boiled within the young elf's body. While the thought of Templar suffering warmed her heart, the fact that she had nothing to do with it didn't sit well within her conscious. The only way she was ever going to quench her thirst for vengeance was by sipping the goblet herself. For the first time in what seemed like ages, Lorelei let out a small prayer begging for the rumors to be false. Rayne couldn't die yet. He still had a world of suffering to endure at the young elf's hands.

The Overlord looked surprisingly pleased over hearing the news. He grunted heavily and addressed his subordinate in a new light.

"That is unfortunate to hear but may bode well for our situation," Saurfang stated. "Perhaps I can convince the Garrosh to cancel his requested attack on the Skybreaker as well as Templar's guild."

The scout dejectedly shook his head.

"I have already given the High Overlord the same report earlier," the orc interjected. "He ordered that the operation is to proceed as originally planned."

Saurfang's expression turned sour as he immediately looked immensely displeased upon hearing the updated news.

"What of our soldiers then?" He painfully asked. "Are they in position as outlined in the original strategy?"

The subordinate nodded.

"Yes Overlord," he quickly answered. "Two companies of soldiers infiltrated the ramparts above the lower spire last night. They've verified the landing location of the Skybreaker and are now lying in wait to ambush the Vanguard unit upon arrival."

"Very well," said the Overlord. "You may return to your post."

"For the Horde." The scout saluted.

Saurfang offered nothing more than a nod and dismissed the subordinate. The young elf couldn't believe what her long ears have just overheard. Even though Templar may be absent from this battle, there's still a good chance that his beloved elven companion may still show up. This plan wasn't about killing him anyways. Lorelei wanted to watch the paladin agonize over the death of Narula. Maybe his sorrow will grow even tenfold when he hears of her demise and wasn't there to witness it let alone attempt to do anything about it. If that were true, the young elf hoped that she would be the one to personally deliver the news to him before driving her family's historic blade through his broken heart.

* * *

 _Wyrmrest Temple_

 _Dragonblight_

The red dragon glided across the vast open sky and quickly touched down upon the gigantic temple in the southern region. It stood several hundred feet tall and easily overlooked the entirety of the frozen landscape for as far as one's eyes would carry. The tower itself appeared to be systemically carved and decorated. Its design reminded Rayne of similar architecture found within the Titanic city of Ulduar. If Cayden or Samuel were here, the paladin could ask for their insight on the structure but unfortunately, the history lesson would be delayed as more pressing matters awaited him.

Rayne carefully dismounted from the dragon. The wide-open space atop the temple may have suited the winged creatures just fine but as a human with no visible means of flight, the paladin had to take precautions to where he moved and stepped less he slip and fall from a height not mortal could possibly withstand no matter how soft the snow was below.

"This way Raymond Templar," commanded Nethestrasz. "I shall introduce you to our Queen."

The paladin nodded and closely followed the red dragon. The ornate marble floor atop the tower would have been a view to marvel at but it paled in comparison to the magnificent glowing blue sphere in the center or the litter of dragons guarding the outside area. Rayne wasn't sure how many mortals were blessed to bear witness to such a magnificent sight. This was a place where some of the most powerful beings in Azeroth gathered. Even with the accolades under his belt, the paladin felt woefully out of place.

"Here."

The red dragon stopped and motioned towards the southern portion of the tower. Rayne was so caught up with the view, he had nearly forgotten why he came here.

"Allow me to introduce you to the Queen of Dragons herself."

The paladin took a deep breath as a large elven creature approached. Thick plates of red and gold ornate armor lined her smooth auburn skin. A majestic crimson cape hung off her stern shoulders. Two horns protruded out of her thick fiery hair. Gleaming gold eyes stared back at him. They appeared as if they were crafted with the light itself. Her powerful red lips began to part as she acknowledged Rayne with a grand salutation.

"Greetings Raymond Templar."

The Life-Binder's voice was stoic yet oddly angelic. It was as if she could command the greatest armies in the world to do her bidding and most would easily succumb thanks to the alluring tone she finished with.

"I am Alexstrasza," she graciously stated. "We are thankful you agreed to meet with us on this day."

Rayne was a bit flustered. He was standing before a queen yet wasn't sure whether he should bow or how to acknowledge this ancient creature altogether. It didn't help that his face was quickly getting flush while looking over the Dragonqueen's rather skimpy outfit. Granted, all dragons in their true forms are completely naked but her elven appearance, Alexstrasza's attire left little to the imagination.

Moments were quickly passing and instead of standing around gawking like a child, Rayne defaulted to his noble mannerisms and address the Queen of Dragons as she rightfully deserved.

"It is an honor to be called to serve," bowed the paladin.

"Forgive us for the abruptness of this request," the Life-Binder commented. "However, time is not on our side."

"I'll say!"

The paladin's attention was quickly drawn away from the majestic queen to the tiny gnomish creature approaching them. Gleaming white hair with faint bronze highlights throughout was the first thing that caught his eye. She wore masterfully tailored white with ornate bronze and purple designs throughout that reminded Rayne of the garb worn by the Legend twins only this one seemed to be much more regal. The gnome looked up at him with radiant emerald eyes and delivered a deep scowl.

"I've been looking for you for quite some time," the gnome pouted. "Where have you been hiding?!"

"I – uh," the flabbergasted paladin stuttered while attempting to find the proper words to offer a reasonable reply.

Thankfully, the wise Alexstrasza could sense his growing apprehension and cut in before he continued to make a fool of himself.

"Allow me to introduce you to Chronormu," the Dragonqueen stated. "She is an ambassador of the bronze dragonflight and a welcomed member of the Wyrmrest accord."

Rayne felt a bit more at ease thanks to the kind words of the Life-Binder. Though she came off a bit strong, Chronormu appeared to be much easier to talk to. She had a presence that was both calm and cheerful. He lowered his gaze and offered a sincere smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you –"

"Just call me Chromie," she interrupted. "I am comfortable with such familiarity. Especially with someone as well know as –"

The gnome cut herself off abruptly and stared deeply into Rayne's piercing blue eyes.

"Those eyes," she remarked. "I've seen them before."

Chromie took a step forward. She bore her inquisitive gaze upon the paladin. The gateway to his soul was just beyond his gleaming cobalt irises.

"Is your name really Raymond Templar?"

"What?"

The paladin took a step back. It was quite strange that he was being grilled about his name of all things. However, the odd part was, this wasn't the first time someone of extreme power had called it into question.

"Chromie," Rayne called. "What do you –"

"Oh! I've got it!" The gnome cheered. "I thought that was you. I'll just have to slip back to confirm but I'm pretty sure I know you're hiding a big secret."

If the paladin's eyebrow raised any further, it would have climbed out of his head and floated several feet above. All of this cryptic talk drew at his curiosity but before he could say anything else, Chromie sped off without any regard.

"I'll deliver the news when you return," she waved while running towards the outer edge of the tower. "Boy are you in for a surprise."

Her words trailed off as the gnome quickly shifted into the form of a large bronze dragon. She leapt off the tower and with a flap of her mighty wings, Chromie flew from sight and disappeared into the sky.

"Forgive her," the Dragonqueen softly spoke. "She has a uniqueness that is shared by few but adored by most."

"Not at all," defended the paladin. "She has drawn upon my curiosity."

Rayne steeled himself and set aside his personal concerns for another time.

"However, my desires are not what brought me here," he boldly remarked while turning his attention directly towards Alexstrasza. "How may I be of assistance?"

The Life-Binder's lips pursed into a small but noticeable smile. Its elegant form sent rapid shivers throughout the paladin's spine.

"Follow me Raymond Templar."

She escorted Rayne along a short path until they reached a large column to the west. Hiding just beyond view were two more elves appearing to have a peaceful conversation with one another. The first stood out immediately with her lush green hair and protruding white horns. Her silken amethyst skin was protected by layers of lavish juniper and silver trimmed armor. A pair of spaulders appearing as if they were carved from the World Tree itself rested upon her shoulders which only complimented the elf's glowing green eyes.

Standing next to her was a familiar face. While she didn't carry the same level of splendor as some of the other creatures atop this tower, her beauty was second to no one in the paladin's eyes and yet he was still even more surprised to find her standing amongst some of the most powerful beings in Azeroth. Her soft silver eyes met with his briefly as Rayne couldn't help but call out to her.

"Narula?"

The paladin's heart began to flutter. He hadn't seen the night elf since she had swiftly left him at the inn within Wintergarde. While Rayne still had many questions about what she saw and the events had transpired, the look on her face told him she didn't wish to speak about any of it.

"What are you doing here?"

Narula turned away, unable to look the paladin in the eyes. Her expression remained unchanged.

"She is the reason we have sought you out Raymond Templar," the Dragonqueen answered. "For it is the Mother of Dreams, Ysera, standing before us that requires your assistance."

Air dried in the paladin's throat almost immediately. He had heard many tales of the one they called the Emerald Queen from Narula and her fellow druidic compatriots. Her importance to their cause is immeasurable yet her presence seemed so humble and warm that it quickly soothed Rayne's heart.

"It is an honor," the paladin replied.

"Thank you for coming today," Ysera replied. Her voice was stoic but welcoming. She called out to him as if Rayne were her very kin. "I have heard of your many accomplishments from your ally. She speaks very highly of you."

The paladin's heart beat thickly within his chest. He couldn't control the damn thing no matter how hard he tried. Rayne only hoped his face hadn't changed colors. It was bad enough to be standing amongst some of the most legendary creatures in Azeroth. Receiving their praise was another story altogether, one which the paladin could hardly bear the weight of especially in front of the one his heart constantly called out to.

"Please tell me," the bashful paladin replied. He passed a quick glance towards Narula who was still having difficultly looking him in the eyes and continued. "What can I do for you?"

"I received a message from the Cenarion Circle," the night elf spoke. "Ysera had called to them under dire need."

The Mother of Dreams stared deeply upon Rayne's eyes. She addressed him personally with a commanding amount of respect.

"One of my flight has been captured by the Lich King," Ysera somberly stated. "Her name is Valithria Dreamwalker. She is being held within Icecrown Citadel and I already fear the worst."

A sullen air fell over the tower. The paladin sensed the mood dimming and struggled to find the proper words to respond. There was only one thing he could think to ask. His own encounter with the Leader of the Scourge reminded him just what that damned monster was capable of and why no one, no matter how powerful they may be, can overcome the grim fate of serving the Lich King after death. One dragon had already succumbed to his power. Perhaps that is another contingency that damned Arthas planned for before their assault on his castle.

"Do you believe she has fallen and is now a minion of the Scourge?" Posed Rayne.

Ysera calmly shook her head. Her eyes softened as the painful memories of the past started to return.

"Her current fate is not nearly as kind," the Emerald Queen replied. "I had sensed it through my own suffering when the Nightmare attempted to take hold of me. Before I broke free of its bonds, I could hear Valithria calling out to me. She was in great pain and begged to be released from her misery."

The paladin listened intently. There were a few details he was still curious about as the manner in which Ysera spoke made it seem like the knowledge she was imparting was commonly known.

"The Cenarion Circle has assumed the worst," Narula added. "All of the Archdruids sensed it immediately. Valithria has been forced to open a portal to the Emerald Dream."

Those words resonated brightly within Rayne's thoughts. The night elf had spoken on many occasions about the wondrous Emerald Dream. It was a perfect version of Azeroth, free from all wars and hatred that existed in a world devoid from all intelligent life. The green dragonflight were its guardians and protectors, perceiving the Dream as a guideline to shape our own world into a bright and glorious future. The Nightmare which the Emerald Queen had spoken of prior must have been the corrupting force Narula had mentioned nearly every time the subject was brought up which poked at the paladin's curiosity with fevered interest.

"The Scourge appears to have been conducting experiments upon her," the Mother of Dreams stated. "I can smell faint traces death and decay seeping into the Dream. The Lich King may be attempting to corrupt it for his own twisted purposes."

Ysera stared deeply at the paladin. She wanted her next words to be received with the utmost sincerity.

"If this is allowed to continue, I fear greatly for not only my flight but the longevity of Azeroth itself. The Emerald Dream is a place for the nurturing and caring of life. Death has no place there."

Rayne couldn't help but pass another glance at the night elf. She was the reason why he was called to this place. If this was truly important to her, Narula wouldn't have asked anyone else. The paladin allowed that thought to permeate in his mind as the Emerald Queen uttered her final request.

"As an ally of the Cenarion Circle and wielder of the light, I must entrust this task to you both," Ysera powerfully said. "Free Valithria from her suffering and save the Emerald Dream from the corruption of the Scourge."

The way she uttered those words left a resounding echo throughout the paladin's chest. Being called before a Dragon Aspect was an honor, having one ask for your assistance was nothing short of a privilege.

"May I count on your aid Raymond Templar?"

The paladin took a deep breath. His eyes fell upon Narula's once more only this time, she wasn't looking away. The night elf stared back at him. Her expression brimmed with anticipation for his response. Narula knew the Templar Knights would be entering Icecrown Citadel as the Vanguard before the rest of the Argent Crusade. Their mission was to break into the heart of the Lich King's castle and be the first to enter the spire itself. This would give them clear access to search for the member of Ysera's flight while the rest of the Crusade deals with the prominent threat of the Scourge's more powerful minions. Freeing a green dragon would not be on the Highlord's top priority list. This was a special mission suited for an elite group of Azeroth's finest warriors.

"Yes," Rayne boldly replied. "I will do whatever I can to save Valithria. You have my word."

A light flickered behind the night elf's eyes. The paladin saw a brief hint of a smile forming on her thin lavender lips before fading into obscurity. Rayne finally understood his purpose. It was his duty to help those in need. As easy as it would be for Alextrasza and her flight to bombard Icecrown Citadel, this mission didn't call for brute force. It required stealth, cunning, and skill, something the Templar Knights had in spades.

However, the paladin was not doing it for himself. He knew this was at Narula's request. Rayne had asked so much of her and she rarely requested for anything in return. This was his subtle way of not only paying her back for all of her support, but showing her the extent of his adoration whether it was reciprocated or not.

"You honor us greatly with your efforts Raymond Templar," the Dragonqueen spoke. "Upon completion of your task, return to me here and I will grant you any desire within my power as your reward."

The paladin's heart stopped. He looked upon the Life-Binder with intense curiosity. Every mission he's undertook or task that has been called upon him, the paladin completed it without even the thought of payment. This kind offer from a Dragon Aspect was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If half of the rumors of Alextrasza's power were true, Rayne could ask for almost anything and she would be able to grant it. He couldn't even process the countless thoughts flowing through his mind but an immediate one quickly took hold. However, they would have to finish their mission in order to receive it. With renewed hope, the paladin gazed upon Narula and couldn't stop himself from smiling.

Whatever the Dragonqueen could offer him, Rayne knew it would pale in comparison to what he truly wanted.


	10. Chapter 9

_Light's Hammer_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

Thick steel plates of armor slapped loudly throughout the gloomy hallway. The paladin jogged along the path with Narula following directly beside him. Rayne knew they were grimly late for the beginning of the battle and had to do whatever they could to make up lost time. Even upon the swift wings of Nethestrasz who offered to take them to the gates of the Citadel after their conversation with the Life-Binder, it still took several hours. They rushed passed the battering ram and the decimated door hoping to catch up in time.

The pathway opened to a large room that confirmed the paladin's fears. Hundreds of wounded soldiers were strewn about screaming in agony. Blood caked their armor and tabards all bearing the Templar crest. The few medics available were stretched far too thin to offer proper aid to the injured. While all of these men were trusted and cared for, Rayne frantically scanned the room for any of the Templar Knights. At the very least, his peace of mind was asserted when he found no familiar faces amongst the suffering lot.

"Hey!" A gruff voice called. "You made it kid!"

Rayne quickly turned towards the sound's origin. His attention had been encapsulated by the fallen soldiers, the paladin didn't even to bother to look right around the corner where he immediately found all of the Templar Knights awaiting his grand entrance. They were all donned in their finest battle attire and motioned to greet their prestigious leader.

"Marcus?" Rayne curiously began. "Everyone? What happened? Did the assault begin? Where –"

"Whoa," the warrior cut in. "Slow down. One question at a time."

The paladin took a breath and composed himself before addressing Marcus properly.

"Why are you all still here?" Questioned Rayne while looking around the room at all of the wounded. "Hasn't the attack already begun?"

The warrior let out a deep sigh and shrugged his beefy shoulders.

"Truth be told," he calmly began. "No one thought you'd show up today after what happened in Dragonblight and all. The Highlord even belayed the attack time for an hour on the off chance that you were just running a little late but he couldn't hold back any longer and sent the Templar soldiers in first."

Tirion's logic made sense and while he was thankful that the Highlord even decided to give him an hour, it didn't sit well with Rayne sending in his men into battle without him leading the charge.

"You waited for me?" The paladin painfully deliberated. "But why? Why did you not go with them?"

"Nonsense Rayne Templar," the boisterous Ademski chimed in. "We could never enter the field of battle without you by our side."

"You?" Rayne frantically asked. "You refused an order from the Highlord?"

The gnome scoffed loudly in response.

"We don't take orders from that bozo," Weasel said in jest. "I wasn't going anywhere or stabbing anything until you gave us the go ahead."

The loyalty displayed by the gnome was almost out of place but given the circumstances they now found themselves in, everyone appeared to be taking matters much more seriously.

"I appreciate the sentiment Weasel," the paladin smiled. He then turned to address the rest of the Templar Knights before declaring, "All of you. You honor me with your patience and devotion. Thank –"

"You can forgo the formalities Rayne," the male Legend twin interrupted. "How are you feeling?"

Before he could even respond, Zariyana stepped in closely and addressed the paladin personally. She removed the cloth glove covering her hand and placed the bare skin across Rayne's forehead.

"Have you fully recovered from your injury?" The female priest inquired. "You don't appear to be running as warm as the day prior?"

The paladin reached up and gently seized her wrist before carefully lowering it from his head.

"I'm fine Zari," he anxiously replied. "Really. I'm feeling much better."

The female Legend twin did not appear to be convinced initially. Her expression dimmed as she peered up at Rayne inquisitively.

"I owe you greatly for that," he said with a soft smile. "Thank you."

Zariyana turned away quickly and took a step back. The radiant locks of her silver hair was the only thing the paladin could see of her expression after voicing his gratitude.

"I have the latest scouting reports if you'd like to go over the battle history thus far," Cayden spoke. He carried a few scrolls in one hand and his blazing quarterstaff in the other. "I've done some quick analysis of what our forces have encountered and have been sending some suggested stratagem in the meantime while we awaited your arrival."

The paladin was relieved to hear the dedication within his guildmates but it still didn't stave off the potential embarrassment he would soon have to deal with. He was determined to make things right and the first step was to hail the Highlord and preside as leader for initial assault as he originally promised.

"Excuse me for a moment."

Rayne left his companions and made his way towards the center of the room which had been converted into a makeshift base of operations. Standing proudly just a few paces away was the reverent Highlord Tirion Fordring. He looked over a table going over a freshly drawn map. Standing beside him was another familiar face bearing gallant iron armor with golden trim. The paladin hadn't had the honor of meeting with him since the end of their battle at Lake Wintergrasp but only hoped he still garnered the same favor even after showing up drastically late to this mission.

"Your majesty," Rayne greeted respectfully. He turned towards Tirion and reciprocated in kind once more. "Highlord Fordring. Pardon my intrusion."

Tirion lifted his eyes from the map and addressed the paladin.

"Commander Templar?" He said gruffly. "You're here? After all this time, I was beginning to think the worst had transpired."

Rayne sulked. It was hard to maintain eye contact given the gross negligence on his part to fulfill his duty but the paladin found the courage to remain vigilant. As his first paladin trainer had always told him, one is not measured by the strength of their successes but the aptitude of how they overcome defeat.

"Forgive me Highlord," sighed Rayne. "I was prepared to arrive on time as ordered. However, I was temporarily delayed after receiving an urgent summons from the Wyrmrest Accord requesting my presence at their temple this morning. Had the message not come from Alexstrasza herself, I may have not entertained their invitation."

"You were called to meet with the Queen of Dragons?" The King of Stormwind inquiringly asked. His brow relaxed as a glint of light filled Varian's expression. "From taking Wintergraspe, to defeating an Old God, and even surviving a direct encounter with the Lich King himself, you never cease to amaze me Raymond Templar. I can't believe I ever entertained those rumors about you and your companions."

The paladin tried hard not to let the praise go to his head. King Varian Wrynn was not entirely off base to believe them initially and Rayne was in too deep to correct him otherwise. At the very least, he didn't seem too upset over the paladin's tardiness.

"What did Alexstrasza want?" Asked the Highlord. "Was she offering the assistance of her flight with our cause?"

The paladin shook his head.

"She had a request for me personally. One of the green dragonflight, Valithria Dreamwalker, has been captured by the Lich King. The Scourge is conducting experiments upon her that will bring about more chaos to Azeroth than any of us could ever dare dream."

Each of Rayne's words were chosen carefully. He wanted to emphasize the severity of the Dragonqueen's request without giving up more information than was absolute necessary. No good would come of dividing the Highlord's attention between a rescue mission and the battle against Arthas himself.

"We haven't received any reports of your soldiers encountering a green dragon as of yet," stated Tirion. "They must be keeping her within the main spire."

That was a surprising bit of good news. The Templar Knights were tasked with breaching the central spire and giving the remaining forces of the Argent Crusade access to the Citadel. If they hadn't found Valithria yet, that means the Scourge was hiding her somewhere within the bowls of their fortress. The paladin could complete the task as promised to Tirion and pursue the dragon in the Lich King's captivity immediately afterwards.

"I will conduct my search after completing my duties as required," Rayne continued while attempting to probe further about the status of their assault. "How far have my men made it into the Citadel?"

The Highlord took a breath and motioned downward towards the map. His finger ran across a large hallway and quickly lifted pointing towards the open pathway beyond.

"Your soldiers began the initial assault down that hall. They met some heavy resistance from the Scourge as we initially anticipated but were able to defeat all of Arthas' minions and clear the way to the spire itself."

Tirion retrieved another large scroll sitting beside the current map and unraveled it. He placed the new map atop the old and continued.

"This is the latest report we've just received. The Templar soldiers have completely cleared out the cathedral at the top of the path and have made their way to the upper ramparts. Muradin Bronzebeard has been dispatched upon the Skybreaker and is awaiting the all clear signal once the gargoyles and frost wyrms have been taken care of. It will to proceed with pickup and transport the remainder of your forces to the rise above leading into the main spire."

"Thank you for the update Highlord," acknowledged the paladin. "If you'll excuse me, I must rejoin my men. I assume they are just as curious as to the whereabouts of their leader as you were."

For the first time in his presence, Tirion showed a brief but genuine smirk.

"Then you are relieved Commander Templar."

The paladin saluted his commanding officer. The Highlord immediately reciprocated.

"Good luck Champion of Wintergrasp," the King spoke. "I look forward to meeting you once again at the spire's entrance."

"Thank you, your majesty."

The paladin offered a stern salute and looked at his King with unbridled confidence.

"For the Alliance."

Varian proudly responded in kind.

"For the Alliance."

Rayne turned his attention towards his Knights. He gestured with his gauntlet and commanded them to his side.

"Let's go!"

Everyone quickly came by his side. The paladin jogged forward into the open pathway.

"Double time," he ordered. "We have some considerable ground to cover and lost time to make up for."

The Templar Knights did as instructed without a flicker hesitation. Rayne passed a quick glance at the night elf. She hadn't left his side since their meeting at Wyrmrest Temple. He was going to need her skills and strength now more than ever.

"Narula," the paladin commanded through powerful breaths. "Scout ahead and ensure the area is clear. We don't want to be blind sighted by any wandering Scourge minions that just so happened to show up."

The night elf acknowledged his request and raced ahead beyond her companions' pace. She leapt forward. Her body transformed growing thick tufts of purple fur across every inch of her skin and armor as she morphed into a puma and stealthily proceeded down the silent hall.

A sickening crunch echoed with each hastened step. Rayne couldn't help but look down and see the path that they were on were forged with the bones of countless fallen warriors. Frozen patches of blood stained nearly every part of the surrounding area. The gruesome battle that had taken place only hours prior would be forever etched into this Citadel. At the very least, the dozens of corpses of the fallen Scourge minions varying in both shapes and sizes littering the floors and walls reminded the paladin that they were still winning this fight.

The path ended along the edge of a crystal blue block of ice standing before the central spire. Rayne came to a stop and surveyed the chaotic scene. Piles of massive bones spilled across the wide-open space. Four skulls nearly the size of an entire human rested atop while an axe coated with ripples of blood and larger than a siege engine laid on the ground before them. A rise to the east continued upwards to the remaining parts of the Citadel.

"Yeesh," the gnome remarked. He knelt down and began examining the remaining bones that were thicker than his entire body after a big meal. "How tough do you think this sucker was before he went down like a sack of potatoes?"

"Judging from the all the blood on his weapon," sighed Marcus. "I'd say he put up one hell of a fight."

"If this is what awaited us initially," Samuel commented. "One can only imagine the horrors that remain to be seen."

The paladin could sense the morale of his troops starting to waver. Even Ulduar wasn't nearly as bad as this place was just past the very first gate. The intelligence provided by Brann Bronzebeard and the Explorer's League aided in their conquest of the Titan-forged city but unfortunately for them, the Vanguard unit had no such luxuries.

"Raymond," called Narula at the top of the rise. She had reverted back to her night elf form and beckoned for the rest of the Knights to approach. "The area is clear. There are no traces of remaining Scourge minions in this vicinity.

The change of topic was certainly welcomed. Rayne acknowledged the night elf and motioned for the remaining Knights to follow.

"Come on," he called. "We need to keep moving."

The Knights followed their leader up the risen path. It led to a wide opening to the east revealing a cryptic oratory. Long stairs leading downward served as an entrance. Bodies of fallen Scourge minions were left to rot amongst the empty pews and wide alcoves along both sides of the cathedral. A set of short steps at the far east side rose to an altar and a massive circular platform.

"I didn't take Arthas to be a religious zealot," the warrior spat. "Why would he build a church in his own damn house?"

"Maybe some of the Scourge need some more convincing before joining the cause," added Weasel. "Eternal servitude isn't a great deal on paper. Some of them just needed to learn about some of the benefits of unending death."

"Will you two be quiet less you infect the rest of us with your insipid nonsense," groaned Zariyana.

"Hey!" The gnome fired back. "None of us have ever been here before and there doesn't appear to be anyone left to say otherwise. What makes you right all of the sudden?"

"The evidence confirms the gnome's suspicions," Samuel countered while descending down the steps. He carefully pushed back one of the armored warriors to ensure their death and removed the tattered cloth hanging from their chest. "Does this not look familiar?"

Rayne followed the priest's lead and walked down the stairs with the rest of the Knights trailing behind. The male Legend twin handed him what remained of the tabard which bore the mark of a familiar looking crest. It depicted a pair of scythes on opposite ends each with a lantern hanging off a rusty chain and a single hooded skull in the center. That's when the paladin realized that there were more than just minions of the Scourge that had been defeated on in this place.

"The Cult of the Damned..." Rayne pondered. "Figures."

These religious zealots became well known throughout Northrend. Their organization was made of fanatics that actually worshiped the Lich King as if he were a God of sorts. They were comprised of many beings from all races but none of them members of the undead. Death and rebirth as a member of the Scourge was seen as a great honor. To everyone else, it was pure insanity.

"Perhaps it is a move out of desperation," added Cayden. "The Lich King has thrown his fodder at our assault first to test their but mostly _our_ resolve."

"They creatures wanted to die," the male Legend twin sighed. "Should we linger here any longer, I fear they will soon get their eternal wish."

"Before we go," Weasel chimed in. "How about we get back to the part where four-eyes here said I was right and his frigid twin was -"

The gnome's words were cut off by the giant quake in the back of the cathedral. The large platform in the center of the altar rose from the ground and began ascending into the air. There were no other visible trails or paths in the area.

"That platform must lead to the ramparts above," Samuel stated. "I believe –"

"Nope!" The gnome whined shaking his head furiously back and forth. "Not doing it. I've had enough creepy crap for one lifetime. No way in hell I'm getting on that thing."

"You have got to be kidding me," Marcus scoffed. "You've seen Flame Brain shoot fire from his hands, a machine that literally teleported you from one place to another, and even an Old God chew up and spit out the kid over here without so much as a scratch on him. Now you're telling me you're afraid of a little moving platform?"

"I'm an engineer!" Defended Weasel. "Every structure has to be carefully constructed and built with the proper components. Even a novice can look at a tinker and know how it works backwards and forwards with just a little demonstration. But this?!"

The gnome stomped on the ground and frantically pointed at the platform as it finished its ascent.

"There's no explanation! You can't just say, _'whelp, it's magic'_ and let it go just like that," Weasel continued while paying a quick glance towards the paladin. "You know what I'm talking about. Tell'm Rayne!"

"Let's go everyone."

"That' ri – wait!" The gnome wailed. "What? No! You're supposed to be on my side! Is this your idea of revenge after that stupid bet I placed? Traitor!"

As much as Rayne wanted to placate his companions with a small quip or even a smile, this was neither the time nor place. They had a mission to fulfill and the Templar soldiers were in the midst of the most vile army Azeroth has ever laid eyes upon. Any further delays were out of the question.

"You heard the boss," Marcus snickered scooping the gnome up in his muscular grip. "Time to go for a ride."

Weasel put up no resistance. He sulked in the warrior's arm in a vain attempt to add more weight to his body to further impede their trek. The Templar Knights walked through the cathedral and ascended the altar just as the platform returned to the bottom. Weasel took a deep breath. They stepped onto the circular marble slab in unison and awaited ascension.

"Marcus?" Weasel called barely above a whisper.

"Yea buddy?" The warrior replied.

"If we make it out of here alive," he began. "I'm going to make you pay for this."

"I know," chuckled Marcus. "I know."

The platform shook as it lifted off the ground once more. Though there were no visible signs of a lifting device in the area, the paladin's thoughts did not waver in the slightest. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for what may be awaiting them above. Whether it be a massive contingent force of ghouls, geists, and gargoyles or the remaining members of the Templar soldiers making camp and mending wounds, they had to be ready for anything.

As the platform reached the top of the ramparts, Rayne's eyes immediately widened. All of the scenarios that played out through his mind and yet this was one that hadn't even bothered to surface.

"By the light…" The paladin gasped. "What the hell is going on?!"

Blades clashed along the skull-laden path in manic chaos. Hundreds of Horde troops were laying siege against the Templar soldiers fighting desperately against them. The tormented cries of humans littered the open sky as orcs, trolls, and taurens alike spilled their blood in licentious turmoil.

"Everyone!" Rayne ordered while drawing his sword and shield. "Defend our soldiers! Drive the Horde back and clear a path."

The warrior released Weasel from his grip and seized his mighty titansteel-forged mace. He let out a booming battle cry and charged into the fray without a moment's hesitation. The rest of the Templar Knights followed suit, clasping their weapons, and preparing for imminent battle. Rayne didn't even bother lowering his engineering goggles. The tinge of anger brewing in his heart left no room for immediate logic. The paladin blitzed ahead with his shield pressed forward and immediately engaged the closest group of Horde troops laying waste to anyone who stood in their way.

Steel crunched against flesh with maddening ferocity. Rayne slammed his bulwark into the forsaken spellcaster. She shrieked in agony as the unyielding iron crashed against her unarmored ribs and sent the mage reeling towards the ground.

A sweeping slice came looming downwards. The paladin caught the menacing axe with his blade as the vicious edge stood mere inches from his face. He locked eyes with the frenzied orc bearing down upon him. There was no way Rayne was going to match his muscular adversary in pure strength. It was only a matter of time before the Horde soldier gained the edge upon him, in more ways than one, and the only thing the paladin could think to counter was simply deflecting.

"What are you doing?!" Shouted Rayne. "We're not here to fight each other! You are not my enemy!"

"But you are mine Templar!" The orc snarled. "This is for Wintergrasp!"

The Horde soldier's gauntlet cracked against the paladin's exposed jaw and sent him tumbling sideways. A blurry haze soon followed. The punch had done more damage that the stinging nerves along his face had warned but Rayne refused to fall to the ground. He quickly spun completing the three-hundred and sixty degree turn and launched his shield in a powerful throw. It gleamed with brilliant radiance and caught the orc right in the throat. The Horde soldier wheezed, releasing the grip of his axe and catching his fissured neck in utter anguish. He collapsed to the ground unable to breath nor fight for the foreseeable future.

Rayne turned his attention to the Templar soldiers surrounding him as his shield returned to his awaiting grip. The immediate threat had been vanquished but there were still plenty of Horde troops left with no signs of letting up.

"Is everyone okay?!" The paladin frantically asked. "Where's –"

A quick scan the battlefield found exactly what Rayne was looking for. At the very end, the orcish Horde sergeant wielding a frightening crimson halberd was trading blows with a spunky young female Captain in blood-soaked iron armor.

"LENA!"

The paladin raced forward along the inner edge of the ramparts. An immediate assessment of the battle showed that the tide was slowly turning in their favor. The Horde troops may have been ready to deal with footmen of the Alliance but they were little prepared to handle the skills of a specialist group like the Templar Knights.

Agonized cries echoed loudly as Rayne passed another group of Horde troop entangled and bound by thick brown roots. The night elf always knew the most effective way of manipulating nature and finding the simplest solution to any problem. Neither of them liked killing especially within the walls of a common enemy praying for moments just like these.

Gouts of flame roared into the ramparts nearly singing the paladin's golden cloak. The mage unleashed a torrent of fire from the ground and roasted the armor of every adversary that raised arms against the Templar soldiers. Samuel and Zariyana helped control the flow of battle by providing holy shields to their allies as well as unleashing columns of vindictive smites upon those that dared to oppose them.

Horde casters had fallen with every hastened breath of air like clockwork. Their most powerful troops were being picked off systematically. Saelena's marksmanship was unrivaled on these walls and the cloth-bearing mages had little to no defenses against the blinding shots of exploding steel. Her husband, on the other hand, took the more direct approach much like the warrior on the other end of the battlefield. Ademski's thick blade shined with holy radiance and cut through the Horde troops in the near blink of an eye.

Rayne continued to sprint forward. The only one unaccounted for was the gnome, fortunately, that was too be expected. If the paladin couldn't find him, neither could the Horde troops. They were as good as dead by now and as much as he abhorred taking the life of another, Rayne's duty lied first and foremost with protecting his people.

Only one more group of soldiers stood between the paladin and Captain Sherwood. The remaining Horde troops, an orc and troll, appeared to have the edge, beating the last three Templar soldiers with their sheer size and strength. Rayne saw their axes being raised high into the air and his heart clenched as he realized he was not going to make it in time.

The edges sliced through the footmen, spilling their blood in a wide arc. Each soldier collapsed to the ground and stared lifeless up at the chilling gray sky. The only remaining member of the Templar army in this area was still locked in combat with the Horde sergeant and would soon be pitted in an uneven battle.

"LENA!"

The paladin's shout distracted the orc and troll as they diverted their attention towards him. Both axed came barreling down. Rayne raised his shield and caught the blows. The crunch of steel send shockwaves coursing through his arm. Their combined strength droved the paladin down to one knee.

"What happened here?!" Rayne called out.

Lena swayed passed a menacing swing of the orc's halberd that would have surely severed any appendage that stood in its way and slammed her steel greave into the sergeant's exposed midsection giving her a moment to breath and answer.

"They ambushed us!" The Captain barked over her shoulder. "We were on our way to the loading platform when these bastards came out of nowhere. Where the hell were – "

A terrifying cry ripped from Lena's lungs as her words were silenced by a devastating backhand from the Horde sergeant's gauntlet. She spun violently and was forced to face the paladin. Streaks of crimson fluid poured from the edge of her lips as the Captain winced and attempted to recover. Her exposed backside faced the orc as he raised his weapon on high and drove it downwards.

The air in Rayne's throat went dry. He watched the halberd explode through Lena's abdomen, impaling her where she stood. Blood spat forward, raining down from the freshly exposed wound. Her eyes shot wide. Not a single breath or word of panic escaped through her bloodied lips.

"LENAAAAAAAAAA!"

Light swelled through the paladin's bulwark. He channeled the divine energy into a massive concussive force. Rayne vaulted to a standing position, swinging the shield outward, and launching the remaining Horde troops dozens of yards away. Their bodies slammed onto the skull-laden flooring as consciousness was torn from their grasp.

Rayne rushed ahead. The Horde sergeant maliciously kicked Lena off his weapon. She spilled forward, falling into the frenzied arms of the paladin. His sword and shield collided upon the ground as Rayne knelt and gently pressed her back against the inner wall.

"Lena!" He frantically shouted. "LENA!"

Thundering footsteps echoed from behind. The Templar Knights had defeated the remaining Horde troops and rushed to the Rayne's location where the lone sergeant defiantly stood on guard just a few yards away. None of that mattered to the paladin. All his attention was focused on the Captain laying in his arms as life slowly drained from her haggard body.

"Hang on!"

Golden rays of light rose from within his gauntlets. He pressed them upon the gaping hole in Lena's stomach and desperately commanded the holy power to mend her wounds. Crimson goo caked over his hands. The light faded within the spewing fluids. It wasn't working. Rayne couldn't concentrate. His emotions spun into a chaotic vortex. Frantic breaths spit from his lips has his anxiety grew tenfold.

"Please stay with me!" He begged. "I'll save – "

Lena's hand shout out and seized the paladin's breastplate beneath the neck. She pulled him forward, staring upon his deep despairing blue eyes with an intimidating glare. The Captain's weak breath tickled his face.

"What are you waiting for? A kiss?" She faintly hissed. "Go get that son of a bitch."

The paladin's body went numb. Lena didn't need to say anything else to illustrate what she truly meant. All of his efforts were for naught. Rayne was forced into the painful realization that he may no longer be able save her but he could damn well ensure that she would be avenged.

"Rayne!"

Zariyana fell to her knees next to the paladin with her brother following just a few steps behind. The Captain slowly slipped from his arms and fell into the priests' awaiting grip.

"We may be able to save her!" The female Legend twin shouted. "But we'll need to –"

Her words fell upon deaf ears. Rayne's nerves twitched with a ravenous fury. He stood up and took the fallen blade of the Templar in his grip. The shield was completely ignored for it was not needed for what he was about to do.

The paladin's mind focused like a laser beam. Every aspect of the outside world fell into a deep red haze. A pair of magnificent golden wings sprouted from his back. Holy energy swelled over every inch of his body funneling through his eyes and masking the piercing blue orbs in a sea of gleaming power. The Captain's freshly stained blood evaporated from his armor through the light's ambient radiance.

The paladin slowly walked forward. Every step he took towards the Horde sergeant caused the ramparts to quake. The orc clutched his weapon tightly and prepared himself for combat. However, no amount of training or experience would spare him the wrath of the vengeful light.

"RAYMOND!"

Narula sprinted ahead. She had seen Rayne take this form only once prior and hoped to stop him before he makes another terrible mistake he will forever regret. The night elf reached out to him, hoping to seize his arm carrying the weapon before it could wrought any illicit and angered harm upon an unworthy soul.

An unseen explosive concussive force drove Narula backwards. She cried in agony as her back viciously slammed against the unforgiving ground and rolled backwards. Blood trickled from a newly opened gash above her eye. It slowly spilled downward, descending around the socket and falling to her chin like a crimson tear.

The night elf struggled to get up. Her arms quivered as pain continued to funnel through her body. She looked upwards and gasped at the aching realization that she no longer had the strength to contain the paladin's merciless power.

Steel squeaked within the hands of the Horde sergeant. He gripped the halberd tightly as Rayne pointed the blade of the Templar directly at him.

"Those hands…"

Rayne's voice boomed with a thunderous echo. Each word he spoke was amplified by the ambient wrath shining over his body.

"Those hands will no longer bring harm to anyone ever again," he demanded. "I will personally see to that."

The paladin's blade crackled with golden energy. Whips of light snapped off it as if catering to a lightning storm of brilliant radiance. Rayne dashed forward. His body moved seamlessly as if unimpeded by the weight of his armor. The sword came thundering forward in a blinding arc, catching the orc by the wrist and severing it clean off.

A hideous howl echoed into the gray sky. The Horde sergeant's halberd bounced onto the skull-laden surface with his newly severed hand still attached to the hilt. Blood funneled from the wound in furious haste. He clutched the spewing appendage with his only good hand remaining and took several steps back.

"Holy shit!" Marcus spat. "We've got to stop him less the kid does something we know he's going to regret!"

Fear encapsulated the orc's eyes. His excruciating pain no longer registered. The winged paladin was unrelenting in his taunts and approach. He continued taking a few steps back, retreating towards the large circular opening down the stairs. The Horde sergeant did not once avert his gaze; he couldn't less he blinked and missed the deadly adversary swooping in and delivering the killing blow without raising even a paltry attempt at a defense.

A piercing cry echoed into the air high above. The orc's instincts commanded him to look up. His spine instantly froze. Descending from the gray clouds, a nightmarish creature landed upon ramparts. It was completely devoid of flesh. Massive bones filled out its cryptic body seeping with ambient blue energy throughout its core. A pair of enormous wings spanned over fifty feet wide with razor sharp barbs poking through the thumbs and lower phalanges. The creatures frightening skull housed two menacing teal horns as well as an entire mouth full of hungry fangs ready to shred its next meal.

The Horde sergeant was paralyzed with fear. He didn't even flinch as the frost wrym let out a petrifying screech and consumed the orc in a single bite.

Light snapped before the paladin's vision. The sea of red brimming with rage was cracking. Rayne's moment of revenge had been stolen from him by this hideous creature. The orc that had murdered his dear friend had now suffered a gruesome fate that was still considered too lenient by the paladin. Even with the goblet stolen, Rayne's thirst for vengeance still needed to be quenched. If not the orc, that this undead dragon would certainly be a fitting outlet for his rage.

The paladin rushed forward. With the longsword in his hand, Rayne threw caution to the wind as he swung the blade into the fangs of the beast. His lungs burned as the paladin shouted with all of his might. Light exploded from the wake of the strike. The frost wrym howled in defiance as the radiant energy tore a chunk of its rancorous maw clean off. Though it was missing a fragment of its being, the blow didn't little to dissuade the undead dragon from attacking as it lunged forward.

"What are you waiting for?!" The warrior cried out. "Rayne can't take that thing on his own! Let's show that winged bitch who's boss!"

Marcus, Ademski, Saelena, Cayden and Weasel fled down the steps. The others were still preoccupied with their own responsibilities and pains to further assist the paladin.

The frost wrym reeled every time it traded blows with Rayne's gleaming blade. Its talons swiped at the resilient paladin and were met only by his glowing weapon. No matter how hard they resisted, the undead were no match for the powerful radiance of the light. Not even a creature of this size and magnitude could stand against it.

The air shook with the violent shout of the warrior as he landed at the side of the frost wrym. His mace bore through the freezing wind and slammed into the creature's boney hide. Ribs cracked against the weight of the attack. Another agonizing wail exploded from the undead dragon's maw.

Multiple shots ripped through the air and pierced the ragged tendons and decaying strips of the frost wyrm's wings. Saelena fired her rifle unrelentingly. She knew that if she could batter the undead dragon's wings just enough, it would be unable to take flight and pose no threat to the Skybreaker should they be forced to retreat. However, given the mood of the battle at hand, that wasn't an option that crossed anyone's mind.

Light beamed from the draenei's blade. Ademski channeled the golden energy in a vortex circling his body. With a mighty swing, he whipped the sword upwards sending a tornado of radiance spinning towards the frost wyrm's talon. The light tore through its bones, unimpeded by their density and supposed strength and forced the creature to hobble uncontrollably without it's needed appendage.

Weasel sprinted through the chaos, dodging chipped bones and splintering debris falling all around him. He reached for his pouch and procured a pair of saronite bombs. Knowing where they were going and the potential danger that loomed within, the gnome had packed plenty. His experience fighting dragons, undead or otherwise, may have been slim but he's heard enough horror stories to know that with creatures of this size, everything's a threat. Wesael quickly tied the bombs together with a short length of rope, snapped his fingers laced with flint and steel to ignite the fuses, and hurled the explosives at the base of the frost wrym's tail. They quickly latched on and coiled around the thick, boney appendage before coming to a complete halt next to one another and detonating simultaneously.

Chunk of bone rifled through the site of the blast. Thankfully, Weasel took the precaution of properly wearing his engineering goggles and spared his eyes from being pierced with undead debris. When the dust settled, the frost wyrm's tail had been cracked as was no longer writhing about like a hapless child wasting its limitless energy.

The battle was not going the way the paladin had hoped. This creature's resistance was abating with each passing the moment. It would not be a suitable end to its pitiful existence unless it at least proved itself worthy of being consumed by the light of vengeance.

With its defenses battered, the frost wyrm wailed and attempted one final moment of defiance. The undead dragon reared its head back and snapped its fanged mouth forward. Rayne telegraphed the fearsome attack, lowered his stance, and drove his sword upward catching the frost wyrm just below the jaw and driving the blade through its mouth and nose. He wanted to pull the sword forward, slicing its dreaded maw in half and rendering it useless. However, that wasn't a good enough ending for this beast.

Rayne released the grip of his blade. He clasped the upper and lower halves of the frost wyrm's mouth and channeled every fragment of strength within him to slowly pull it apart. The paladin greatly desired to split its skull in two with his bare hands. He cursed through his clenched teeth. However, he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Rayne forced the light to push through his gauntlets and it funnel the much needed energy he channeled to rip its maw wide open. The blade of the Templar slipped through its jaw and fell harmlessly to the ground.

In his blinded state of rage, the paladin didn't realize he was actually doing the undead dragon a favor. With its mouth now free, the frost wyrm roared and prepared to challenge Rayne's paltry strength against its own by clamping its fangs shut.

"RAYNE!" A frantic voice shouted. "DUCK!"

A chaotic eruption sounded directly behind the paladin. A rush of warmth swelled and grew in size and temperature with every passing moment. The paladin shot a quick glance over his shoulder and caught the faint glimpse of Cayden unleashing a tremulous ball of flame. The meteor blitzed through the air and nearly singed Rayne's armor had it not been for the advanced warning. It bore straight through the boney fangs of the frost wyrm before settling in its seething belly.

The ramparts shook violently. Fragments of bone exploded from the undead dragon's midsection. The creature reeled before falling lifelessly to its side. All of its pulsating blue energy grew dark and soon dissipated completely.

"Yeesh Flame Brain," the warrior gasped. "Warn a guy next time you decide to implode a dragon I'm standing next to."

"R – right!" Cayden stammered. "I'm sorry! I was just so anxious; I wasn't thinking properly."

"You're not the only one," added Weasel as he nodded over to their blonde-haired leader.

Piercing gray light bore through the paladin's vision as his anger slowly subsided. The golden wings across his back faded into the air. His body convulsed while his mind raced to piece together the thoughts and memories of the last few moments that transpired. A bolt of fear immediately struck his chest. He quickly turned and found the night elf painfully rising from her knees with a single slender hand clutching her skull.

"Narula?"

Rayne made his way over to her. His hands still shook uncontrollable as the remaining adrenaline worked its way out of his system. The paladin knew she had tried to stop him but in his infinite blindness, failed to heed her warning.

"I'm sorry Narula," Rayne remorsefully sighed. "Are you alright?"

The paladin reached out to her but she quickly pulled away.

"I'm fine Raymond," she immediately answered. "Do not concern yourself over me."

The night elf lowered her hand to reveal a small scratch above her eye. It had quickly scabbed over with a few traces of streaked blood still staining her face but otherwise, she appeared to be doing okay as stated. The laden guilt of his actions caused his heart to tighten within his chest. Narula didn't deserve to be treated this way and he had no idea just how he was going to make it up to her. This was a grave embarrassment he would not soon forgive himself for. It would continue to haunt him every time he snuck a glance at her glowing silver eyes.

Samuel and Zariyana carefully approached. Their presence reminded the paladin of another grim truth waiting to be revealed. Rayne attempted to keep his emotions in check. The mission presented no greater challenge to a leader than dealing with the loss of life; especially with someone as close to him as the Captain.

"Lena?" Rayne meekly uttered.

Thoughts of the past spiraled into the paladin's mind. He had known Lena longer than any of the other Templar Knights. Despite coming from two completely different households, they were practically raised together almost as if they were siblings. Watching her succumb to such a vehement fate bore through Rayne's very soul as he struggled to stand under the memories of that dreaded blow.

The twin priests turned their heads in opposite directions. Neither of them could look at the paladin before announcing the seemingly dreaded new.

"We did everything we could," Samuel spoke. The words painstakingly forced their way from his throat as he incessantly tried to be as professional and empathetic as humanly possible. "However, it appears her wounds are fatal. There is a slight chance she may survive but the outlook does not look good."

The female Legend twin placed her soft hand upon Rayne's shoulder.

"This isn't your fault Rayne," she pleaded. Zariyana's voice began to crack. She too struggled to maintain her composure. "Don't you dare think you are responsible for any of this. Do you understand?"

As smart as she was, the female Legend twin was dead wrong. It was the paladin's fault the Horde decided to assault them here. Had it not been for Wintergrasp, this battle would not have taken place. Every one of his decisions thus far has brought them to this point. There was no denying that and he didn't dare try. However, Zariyana desperately tried to make the paladin feel better despite all things. For her courage and humbleness throughout this endeavor, Rayne promised to swallow his feelings and never allow her to hear the truth.

The rest of the Templar Knights gathered around their leader. A somber silence fell over them. Rayne peered over the priest shoulder. He watched a pair of Templar soldiers carefully carting Lena's body atop a stretcher off the battlefield and back to the circular platform. As much as his heart wanted to crack and emotions break, the paladin remained firm. He needed to be a beacon of hope for them to look up to. They were counting on the paladin to be strong just as he counted on their strength to make it through this.

"Excuse me sir," called a Templar solider.

The Knights parted and allowed the footman to proceed forward. The pin on his tabard signified his rank as a Sergeant. Rayne acknowledged his presence with a nod.

"Do you have a status report for me Sergeant."

The soldier nodded.

"We've suffered heavy casualties sir," he woefully explained. "Over ninety percent of our forces have been wounded or killed in action. I'm gathering up the remaining solders we have and – "

"That is fine Sergeant," Rayne grimly stated. "Thank you very much for your efforts but they will no longer be needed."

"But sir?" The soldier pleaded. "Our orders come straight from Lord Templar. We're to –"

"You are relieved," interrupted the paladin. "We shall handle everything else from here."

Rayne knew the purpose of the Templar army all too well. They weren't just soldiers out to defend the Templar name and house from all threats. These men and women were the paladin's bodyguards. Every one of them was appointed and swore to give their lives in order to protect his. Rayne's father was always adamant about keeping him safe. However, in this grim war-torn world, the reality was, no one ever was.

A howl of wind raced across the open sky at the edge of the ramparts. The Skybreaker touched down and settled at the open ridge at the western portion of the citadel. Its loud turbines softened to a dull drone. The noise reminded the paladin that their mission was still incomplete. Not even the falling of one of their beloved comrades could dissuade them from continuing. War did not allow the luxury of mourning the death of others. Only the survivors were allowed to grieve. Rayne was determined to bury himself in those feelings once they were done.

"Let's go everyone," commanded Rayne. "We have a job to finish."


	11. Chapter 10

_The Rampart of Skulls_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

The wooden stairs creaked as the Templar Knights ascended and boarded the Skybreaker. Dozens of Alliance soldiers proudly displaying the blue and gold tabard with a powerful lion sewn onto the front were busy finalizing the preparations for their journey. The airship itself was an incredible piece of technology. Two massive turbine engines spun at a wicked velocity and kept the ship afloat while several others along stern propelled it forward. The hull was littered with numerous cannons with enough firepower to destroy any vessel that would dare stand against it in a matter of moments. Finally, the bow featured an inspiring image of a winged eagle forged out of solid steel giving the ship character while bolstering the pride felt by those that served upon it.

Footmen quickly noticed Rayne's presence aboard their ship and appropriately saluted him. The Commander of the Vanguard unit had done as asked and cleared the skies of the menacing frost wrym allowing the Skybreaker to fly freely to its next destination.

The ship's Captain commanded his vessel from a large rise near the bow where a set of matching staircases ascended towards. High Captain Justin Bartlett has led the Skybreaker for the Valiance Expedition since the campaign in Northrend first began. While he has been tasked with surveying the Scourge infested territory of Icecrown, the Captain of this specific operation stood just below near the staircase leading into the ships bowls. His ornate steel armor was carefully crafted with a powerful blue trim along the inner portions of the plate. The spaulders featured a pair of menacing rams with thick tusks and the helm featured its own sharp horns pointing directly at any foe that would dare stand in his way. If that wasn't enough to convince someone not to mess with this dwarf, the thick hammer and sharp axe held in each of his hands would be more than happy to speak on his behalf.

Rayne arrived and stood before the dwarf. Another nearby soldier saluted the paladin which drew the girthy creature's attention towards him.

"Muradin Bronzebeard," saluted Rayne. He motioned towards his companions standing behind him. "The Templar Knights at your service."

"Rayne Templar?" The dwarf inquisitively replied. "Well, aren't ye a sight for sore eyes!"

The two shared a hearty handshake. Muradin's thick fingers carried an immense strength. It took everything the paladin had to not succumb to his vice-like grip. It wasn't every day that Rayne got to shake hands with the brother of a king but the sting in his palm would make sure he would not soon forget it either.

"I was beginnin' to think the worst lad," the dwarf somberly stated. "Yer not the only one who had a bad experience with that cursed sword. It really knocked me on my arse and sent me through quite the journey but that's a story fer another time. I'm just glad to see that you managed to make it out of there okay."

"Thank you," the paladin brightly nodded. "You honor me with your concern."

"Concern is somethin' I have in spades," jested Muradin. "You didn't have to grow up with someone with a big nose for trouble like 'ol Brann."

A light seemingly snapped on within the dwarf's mind. He looked up at the paladin with his gaze steeled.

"Speakin' of which, he told me what you a yer friends did for him out there in Ulduar. I know Brann's curiosity can get him in some deep trouble every now and again but I just want to personally thank you fer keepin' him safe."

Rayne was slightly caught off guard. He wasn't expecting to hear words of gratitude for their prior deeds. However, it was still nice to be thanked and helped take ease his emotions from the recent grievous events that have transpired. Whatever would help take his mind off that horrific scene was needed and welcomed.

"First you served a fellow Bronzebeard in their time of need and then you went on to survive an encounter with Frostmourne," the dwarf said with a surprising grin forming upon his lips. "I don't know how you do things in the Templar household but where I come from, that practically makes us brothers."

Muradin unleashed a powerful slap upon the paladin's shoulder and let out a hearty laugh. Rayne stifled his wince as the blow nearly knocked his stance awry. The dwarf looked around at the rest of the Knights standing idly by and raised an eyebrow.

"Is that all that's left of ya?" Muradin curiously posed. "I thought ye had a whole army at yer backs. What happened to the rest of them?"

The painful memory ignited the paladin's emotions once more. He didn't dare let any of them seep through.

"There is no one else," declared Rayne. "The rest of the Vanguard unit has been relieved. We are the only ones fit to continue this mission."

Muradin continued to stare inquisitively at the paladin. Rayne did not waver with his bold statement. The Templar soldiers have served Azeroth well on this day. They deserved their rest. It was time for their leader to make up for his late arrival and finish their task with his most skilled and trusted companions beside him.

"Thankfully, there's not much left to do here lads. We only have a short trip up to the main spire just around that corner over there," pointed the dwarf. His thick gauntleted finger hovered over the daunting fortress before them. "Once you get done knocking that door down and we bring that bastard Arthas to justice, I'd be honored to share a drink with ya in celebration."

The paladin was both flattered a timid about Muradin's request. While it was a privilege to trade stories and sip ale with someone as renowned as the dwarf, Rayne knew his body was nowhere near as hearty and wouldn't be able to handle the excessive amounts of alcohol their bold race was known to consume on any given occasion. However, he couldn't outright admit it and instead opted to divert the subject.

"Actually, our fight has only just begun," he replied. "Once we've breached the upper spire, we've been asked to search for a captive being held within the citadel."

All of the Templar Knights glanced at one another quizzically before bearing the weight of their gaze upon Rayne. In the rush to get here, the paladin had completely forgotten to inform the rest of them on their secondary assignment.

"Narula," called Rayne. "Will you please brief the Knights on the details?"

The night elf nodded and gathered everyone towards the center of the airship. She was far enough to where Rayne couldn't exactly hear what she was saying but easily infer through her gestures and expressions.

"Well, it looks like you'd got yer work cut out for ya lad," the dwarf commented. "I hope yer not bitin' off more than you can chew."

The paladin casually shook his head.

"I could never turn my back on someone requesting my personal assistance," he replied. "It is my duty to help those in need."

"Well, they must be someone very special to call upon the Champion of Wintergrasp and Conqueror of Ulduar himself for help," Muradin remarked.

A small smirk formed upon his lips. As much as his emotions tried to quell it, Rayne couldn't help but feel a little elated knowing just how far they've come from the rag-tag group of misfits that first stepped upon these shores to being praised by kings and their kin for their dedicated service.

"Oh, that reminds me," the dwarf chipperly said. "I have something special fer ya."

Muradin called out to a nearby soldier. He hastily exited into the bowels of the ship and returned within a few short moments carrying an ornate wooden box in his hands. There was a trio of carvings atop the lid. The first to the left was an image of a hammer behind a pair of lightning bolts with a pronounced anvil at the forefront. The paladin immediately recognized this as the symbol of Ironforge. The next one on the right was the Alliance's proud lion symbol and in the dead center was the unmistakable crest of the Templar. The soldier gave the box to the dwarf as instructed, offered a hearty salute, and quickly returned to his post.

"I was almost afraid we weren't goin' to be able to give this to ya," said Muradin as he carefully opened the box and pointed it towards the paladin. "This was made especially for you lad."

Rayne's eyes widened. Sitting atop a red velvet pillow was a remarkably forged weapon. The silver handle shined decorated with masterfully crafted golden trim and hosted a black leather grip. A short thong at the base served as a strap to be affixed on the waistguard. It led up to a marvelous looking warhammer wrapped tightly in a white silk cloth. The wrapping was just thin enough to make out the embezzled Alliance logo in the center of the golden head leading off toward the flat cubic shape of each side.

"Muradin," the paladin gasped slightly. "What is this?"

"This is a gift from the Bronzebeard clan," the dwarf proudly answered. "Yer fellow Marcus over there sought out me brother Brann the other day with a trinket of particular interest. Once he found out what he had, Brann immediately came to me to help convince our brother Magni to set upon the Great Anvil and forge another weapon for an exceptional paladin."

Rayne continued to admire the fine craftsmanship of the weapon as the weight of the dwarf's words weighed heavily upon him.

"Surprisingly, I didn't take much to convince him," laughed Muradin. "Once 'ol Brann told him the story of Ulduar, Magni set out immediately to gather the materials he needed. I never seen him so fired up before. It was like he was letting off his own steam for what that bastard had done to me."

The paladin's brow furrowed. He gazed inquisitively upon the dwarf begging for further explanation.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you seriously telling me don't know?" Muradin fired back. "Yer the one that almost lost yer life findin' it again."

It all started becoming clear. The vague conversation with Marcus back in Wintergarde immediately made sense.

"This isn't any 'ol hammer lad," the dwarf commented. "This contains the very last remnants of light within Arthas before being consumed by the darkness."

"You mean," the paladin gulped. "Light's Vengeance?"

Muradin proudly nodded.

"Once his hammer hit the anvil, Magni was unstoppable," the dwarf continued. "They say that every weapon carries the heart of those that forge it and those that are intended to wield it. Yers must be very big lad because I never seen a light shine so bright within Ironforge. I almost thought my brother brought the entire damn sun within our walls."

The remarkable story of the hammer's creation was almost too much for Rayne to bear. A weapon of this magnitude, forged by the finest smith in all of Azeroth, and carrying the ancient light of a lost paladin was more than he could ever dare dream.

"Muradin," sighed the paladin. "I don't know what to say. Am I even worthy of – "

"Don't be stubborn," the dwarf interrupted. "After every story I've heard, all of the things ye've put yerself through, I can't think of anyone else on this planet that is fit to wield this hammer other than you, Rayne Templar."

The constant bombardment of compliments and praise were starting to tickle Rayne's emotions.

"Besides," grinned Muradin. "We named the damn thing after you. It'd be a damn waste for it to end up in someone else's hands."

Loud thumps beat within the paladin's chest. He instantly thought of all of the most powerful relics in Azeroth having equally impressive and memorable names attached to them. The Greatsword of Stormwind; Atiesh, Greatstaff of the Guardian; and even the Ashbringer; all carried the venerable notoriety of their strength as well as the heroes that wielded them into battle. Any champion would be immensely privileged to be fortunate enough to even touch one of them. Having a masterfully forged weapon carrying your name and history behind it was an entirely different honor and burden altogether.

"I don't know what to say," the paladin uttered. The words trembled past his lips as he became desperate to know what title was bestowed upon this mighty hammer. "What name has it been given?"

Muradin looked up at the paladin. His horned helm couldn't contain the bright grin pouring from within.

"Light's Redemption."

Rayne's mind descended into a frenzy of thoughts and memories. The hammer had been bequeathed a title fitting not just for any paladin but a paladin worthy to bring back the light from the darkness that has surrounded it after Arthas' fall and betrayal. Rayne was still far too young, despite his growing list of accomplishments, to be worthy of such a weapon let alone title.

"Where did you come up with such a name?"

The dwarf casually shook his head.

"It wasn't us lad," Muradin answered. He passed a quick nod over to where the rest of the Templar Knights stood. "I'm told that lass over there is the one gave us the idea."

The paladin darted his gaze towards the center of this ship. His heart began to tremble with a rhythmic and familiar beat. Muradin had gestured at the night elf, Narula Dawngrove. Her beautiful visage and stoic presence continued to call out to Rayne. Even after all that has transpired between them, the night elf had sought it fit to honor him in a way only shared between the two of them.

"I have to say," remarked the dwarf. "After we had heard her story, it seemed rather fittin'. Magni seemed especially touched as well. Maybe that's why he wrapped it in that cloth there. The hammer can only be revealed to Azeroth by the one worthy of its name."

Every word seemingly fell upon deaf ears. Rayne couldn't take his eyes off the night elf. She continued to work hard and stand by his side without fear or hesitation despite the growing rift between them. The paladin couldn't believe how much of a fool he'd been over the last few days. This just confirmed what he knew in his heart to be true. Try as he might, there was no one on this planet with a bigger place in it that Narula. It was a shame he had to be reminded of it in such a place. When this was all over, the first thing he promised to do was properly apologize for his past behavior and mend their relationship to where it once stood. It may not be what Rayne truly desired but it was what the night elf deserved and that was more important than his own personal feelings.

"Well, what are ye waiting for?" Muradin teased. "Go on and take it lad."

The paladin took a deep breath and reached into the box. His gauntlet carefully hovered over the hilt. Each finger slowly descended and began wrapping around the black leather handle. Rayne breathed deeply once more as he finally seized the warhammer into his awaiting grip.

Light erupted within the confines of the box. The dwarf howled in defiance as the bright golden energy lit up the on the deck of the Skybreaker. It drew the attention of everyone aboard the ship. Many of the nearby soldiers couldn't dare to look in its direction let alone keep their eyes open. The only one that seemed completely unaffected by its magnificent radiance was the paladin himself.

"What in the blazes was that?!" Cried Muradin. "Is everyone alright?"

Rayne pulled Light's Redemption out of the wooden box. The bright lights surrounding the area began to dim and fade into a soft golden glow along the head of the weapon. With every beat of his heart, the light within the hammer flickered. It was almost as if the paladin and weapon were united as one.

"Why didn't Magni warn me that was gonna happen?" The dwarf sighed. "I've seen some mighty weapons in my day lad but I ain't never seen anythin' like that before. Maybe that's why he kept it draped in that cloth."

Short breaths continued to pour through Rayne's lungs. He could feel the light within him clinging onto the weapon and channeling the divine energy throughout every ounce of steel. Something told him to heed Muradin's warning. The paladin wrapped the thong around the loop of his waistguard. Upon releasing the hilt, the golden glow that surrounded the hammer slowly dissipated.

"I'd keep that thing wrapped up if I were you," uttered Muradin. "I can only image how much brighter that would have been without that silk cloth keeping it sheathed. Those damned Scourge would not be too happy to – "

"What in the hell is going on out here?!"

The sharp squeaky voice calling from the underdeck drew the attention of the dwarf and paladin. It continued to grumble up the stairs and onto the main deck before the small creature finally revealed it's short but familiar face.

"Just how am I supposed to work – "

"Findle?" Rayne curiously called out.

The gnome stopped dead in his tracks. His expression turned from angered to aghast in the blink of an eye. A wooden crate filled with red rockets fell from his grip and spilled its contents onto the ground between them.

"Rayne?!" He stammered. "Is that you?"

Findle immediately rushed to the paladin's side.

"I can't believe it! They told me you were dead!" Stated the gnome. "But now you're here! Boy, is it good to – "

"Calm down Findle," Rayne begged. "I'm more worried about you. Just what are you doing here?"

"You mean to tell me you didn't know?" Asked the dwarf. "Ol Findle here volunteered to be our Chief Engineer aboard the Skybreaker for this mission."

The paladin darted a curious gaze over at Findle.

"Volunteered?"

If there was one thing the gnome was most known for, it was his skill as an engineer. Following closely behind that was his desire to acquire as much gold as he possibly could for his excellent tinkers. Offering to do dangerous work, including assaulting the Lich King's citadel, without being paid was not just astonishing, it didn't make any sense.

"I don't understand Findle," Rayne spoke. "Why are you – "

"This isn't about money Rayne," the gnome began. "After Ulduar, I started to think about all of the stuff you've done and the craziness we've been through together. You've really put on a lot of wild rides ever since your blonde mug walked into my shop all those months ago."

The paladin watched as Findle's demeanor shifted to a somber and more serious expression.

"It took me a while to realize it but after hearing about what happened between you and the Lich King, it suddenly all started to make sense."

The air grew thick between them as the gnome continued.

"All of my life, I've always chased gold. That was the only thing that made sense to me. You work and then you get paid. It was as simple as that."

Words jumbled around Findle's throat. He painfully searched for the right ones before going on.

"But then, you showed up and selflessly put your life on the line day in and day out and for what? Gold? Nope. Honor? Maybe, but it certainly didn't show. Fame? You didn't have any of that when you started and you seemed just as happy back then as you do now so that wasn't it. I wracked my brain for days trying to figure out just what made you tick. Unlike a tinker that can easily be taken apart and put together again, your drive was an utter anomaly on paper. As soon as I was able to admit that was when the answer finally stumbled into my thick skull."

Rayne peered deeply at the gnome. It was hard to tell due to his diminutive stature but the paladin could have sworn he saw a tear building within the corner of his big brown eyes.

"You did it because it was the right thing to do. The rewards and praise were merely an afterthought. And when I sat down and gave it a good ponder, I realized that one of the best friends I ever had was going to storm the den of evil itself and here I am debating how much gold would my presence be worth should it be needed."

Findle's fist tightened. He hadn't been able to look upon the paladin since his speech began but finally, the gnome peered up at Rayne and looked him with confidence and admiration.

"I'm not here for them Rayne," the gnome winced. "I'm here for you. If there's anything I can do to keep that big heart of yours beating then there isn't a price I wouldn't pay, including my own greedy life, to ensure it!"

The gnome's words pierced Rayne's heart. He never expected someone like Findle to cling onto such sentiments but it touched the paladin hear those kind words in a way he never imagined.

"Thank you Findle," smiled Rayne. "I am lucky to have you by my side."

"I'll say!" Barked the gnome snapping out of his emotional daze. "They actually hired some chiseler goblin to fulfill these duties before I showed up."

Findle stumbled over to the fallen wooden crate and gave it a hearty kick. The rockets rattled within the frame for a few moments before falling silent once more.

"Can you actually believe they brought these on board as a life-saving device?" He begrudgingly asked. "Just what were they thinking?"

"What are those?" Rayne curiously probed.

"These things?" The gnome retorted. "They're 'jump-packs' intended to be used in case of anyone falling off the ship. If someone takes a spill over the side, these things are supposed to launch them back up again."

"You cannot be serious."

Findle reluctantly nodded.

"I thought he was kidding at first," commented the gnome while picking up one of the aforementioned jet-packs. "Look at the size of them. They'd only be good for a couple of short bursts before the fuel inside got all burnt up. And that isn't if the shoddy construction doesn't blow up upon ignition."

The paladin knelt down and took the device into his hands. Both rockets were bound together by a single leather strap which had enough slack to wrap around the chest of the user with a buckle to tighten it to the desired thickness. While the design may have some flaws, overall, it should work as advertised.

"It'd definitely a last resort level device if you ask me," Findle stated. "Besides, don't you still have that parachute tinker built into your cloak?"

Rayne nodded and gave the cord between his spaulder and breastplate a gentle tug.

"It was the first thing you built for me when I first visited your shop," the paladin smiled drifting back to the memory that seemed ages ago. "Thankfully, I've only had to use it once."

"And hopefully never again," added the gnome. He pointed at the jet-pack once more and continued to rant. "I'd be afraid the initial burn up of those rockets could singe your cloak and render it useless. I don't know about everyone else but the only thing worth trusting built by goblin hands is a coin counting machine."

"I'll keep that in mind," Rayne smirked.

"You'll never catch me wearing one of those things," chimed Weasel as he joined them along with the rest of the Templar Knights. "That thing's a bigger death trap than Chrome-dome's bedroom."

"Weasel!" Snapped the warrior.

The paladin couldn't hold back a small laugh. He turned his attention towards Narula and stared intently at her hoping to not let his previous emotions swell forth.

"Did you tell them everything?"

The night elf steeled her expression and nodded.

"And everyone was – "

"You needn't finish that thought Rayne," Samuel interrupted.

"Our place is by your side," his sister finished.

"There is no glory in abandonment Templar," Ademski added with his wife standing by his side. "Where you go, we will follow."

"This is also a rare and unique opportunity," the mage noted. "Few mortals have ever been called upon by the Life-Binder but to be entrusted with a mission of her own request is an honor in and of itself."

"We're with you kid," Marcus grinned while placing his arm atop the paladin's shoulder. "I've never run from a fight in my entire life. I'm getting a little too old to start adopting bad habits."

"Besides," the gnome cheekily shrugged. "All we've got to do is rescue one little dragon. It's not like she asked us to kill and Old God or even the Lich King. How hard can it be?"

Rayne smiled brightly. The Templar Knights have been more than just his companions and allies; they were his family. Even though he never wanted to impose, all they wanted to do was give everything they had to aid his cause. The rest of the world spurned them for their quirks and flaws, however, all they needed was a little guidance and leadership to properly thrive in this harsh and unforgiving world. In the paladin's darkest hour, they provided the light he needed to quickly find his way once more. They were everything he could have ever hoped for and more than what he deserved.

"Thank you everyone," Rayne graciously said. "Let's finish this."

The paladin turned his attention back on Muradin. A lot of time had passed since they boarded and the Argent Crusade was counting on them to fulfill their duties and pave the way for the rest of their army to raid the citadel.

"Muradin," he called. "Are the preparations all set?"

"Aye," the dwarf nodded. He waved his gauntlet into the air and signaled Captain Bartlett. "Fire up the engines! We got a meetin' with destiny, lads!"

The Skybreaker jolted as the turbines sped up at maximum velocity.

"Hold on to yer hats!" Commanded Muradin.

The Templar Knights heeded the dwarf's warning. They all braced themselves utilizing anything they could find as the airship quickly took flight. It ascended into the gray skies of Icecrown, winding over the skull-laden ramparts, and heading towards the citadel's menacing spire.

After a few moments, the Skybraker leveled off and traveled with minimal turbulence. Rayne stayed near the dwarf's side. He quickly caught Muradin's attention being shifted near the port side of the ship. The dwarf's eyes narrowed and his pace hastened as he fled to the site of the disturbance.

"What in the world is that?" He asked. Muradin quickly motioned towards a nearby soldier. "Grab me spyglass, crewman!"

The paladin rushed and met with him as the solider passed over the magnifying scope. Rayne immediately lowered his goggles and turned them to the zoom setting to gander at what had stolen the dwarf's attention. His heart sunk as the ominous vessel quickly came into view.

"By me own beard!" Muradin shouted. "HORDE SAILIN' IN FAST 'N HOT!"

Explosions rang out all over the deck of the airship. Rayne instinctively drew his bulwark and pressed it forward shielding himself and the dwarf from the oncoming onslaught. Massive blasts of broken wooden debris and shrapnel violently littered the shield in chaotic torment. Thankfully, it only lasted for a few breaths before the air grew somber once more. Rayne peered over the top of his shield and confirmed his worst fear.

The menacing airship known as Ogrim's Hammer rose into the skies of Icecrown like a demon summoned from the maelstrom. It was hideously designed, featuring all of the blades, claws, and spikes the Horde were infamously known for. Dozens of soldiers dressed in full plate battle regalia and armed to the teeth with axes, spears, and swords shouted in unison. Large cannons along the edges of the ship pointed their deadly barrels right at the deck of the Skybreaker.

"EVASIVE ACTION!" The dwarf ordered. "MAN THE GUNS!"

Rayne quickly flicked his goggles to their threat assessment setting and braced himself before being caught off-balance by the ships sudden movements. He pushed through the turbulence and caught up with the rest of the Knights desperately clinging on to the Skybreaker as it jolted from side to side.

"We're being engaged by the Horde's airship!" The paladin shouted. "Everyone hold on!"

"Haven't those bastards gotten their fill already?!" Scowled Marcus. "What the hell are they thinking?!"

The paladin clenched his teeth as the ship finally began to stabilize. He had learned the painful truth of their initial attack atop of the ramparts what felt like a lifetime ago. This wasn't some spur of the moment decision. They had planned for this and struck at the moment the Alliance were seemingly at their weakest.

"It's revenge for Wintergrasp," Rayne hissed. "They're after us."

"Spiteful cowards," the male Legend twin retorted. "Where is their honor they so constantly bark about?"

"Who is leading the attack?!" Asked the mage. "Has Garrosh come to make good on his bounty?"

The dust settled from the initial wave of explosions. Chunks of the portside deck were missing as soldiers raced to heed their Captain's orders. The paladin peered through the black smoke and found the dwarf barking back at the Horde with ravening fury.

"Cowardly dogs!" Taunted Muradin. "Ye blindsided us!"

Ogrim's Hammer revealed itself fully to the Alliance crew. It sailed approximately fifty feet apart from the deck of the Skybreaker. The Horde's Captain stood on the aft side of their ship. Strong plates or iron armor decorated with a vile crimson inlay sat upon his thick orcish hide. He pointed his intimidating axe forward and called out to Muradin.

"This is not your battle, dwarf," the orc growled. "Back down or we will be forced to destroy your ship."

"Not me battle?" Replied the dwarf. "I dunnae who ye think ye are, mister, but I got a score to settle with Arthas and yer not gettin' in me way!"

The warrior's stance tightened. His eyes shot open as he immediately identified the Horde's Captain.

"That's Saurfang!" Announced Marcus. "They picked that son of a bitch to lead the attack on us?!"

"You're kidding?!" The gnome fired back. "We really must have pissed them off!"

"Who's Saurfang?!" Rayne shouted.

Memories of ancient battles began flooding in. None of the other Knights save for Weasel were old enough to remember let alone take part of that bloody affair but the warrior would not soon forget the savagery wrought by that vile orc.

"He was Doomhammer's second-in-command during the Second War," the warrior answered. "Bastard fought like a demon. I never saw someone command a battlefield so savagely in all my life."

The way Marcus sold the orc Captain made it seem like the soldiers atop the ramparts were just cannon fodder. However, this was a battle being waged with airships. The Horde already had the upper hand launching the initial attack and their guns were already being reloaded ready to unleash another assault. Alliance soldiers began prepping their own weapons portside. They were ready to trade blows while them round for deadly round.

"Everyone!" The paladin called. "Find a safe spot on the ship and – "

"FIRE ALL GUNS!" Muradin ferociously cried. "FIRE! FIRE!"

A hideous chill fell over the deck. Cooling mist magically rose from the deck. The ambient air instantly froze in place freezing the Skybreaker's cannons blocks of solid ice.

"What the - ?!" Snapped the warrior.

"Over there, look!" Samuel yelled pointing outward. "They have a Battle-Mage! He's locking down our guns portside!"

Rayne peered outward and zoomed in with his goggle. Standing about the deck of Ogrim's Hammer, a decorated blood elf mage channeled frost energy within the palms of his outstretched hands. All of the Skybreaker's main guns on that side were completely frozen solid. They could try and turn the ship but that would expose the more sensitive parts to cannon fire and sink them even faster. The only way they were going to get out of this one was to fight fire or fire, or in this specific case, ice with ice.

"Cayden!" Shouted the paladin while resetting his goggles.

"On it!" The mage quickly answered.

Crackles of teal energy channeled from Cayden's hands. He quickly made a series of arcane gestures and with a solid snap of his wrists, the mage encased the Horde's guns in a small hill of ice and rendered their fleet of weapons useless.

"Alright!" Cheered the gnome. "That'll show those bastards."

"Good work Cayden," Rayne acknowledged.

"Thank you," panted the mage. "But I can't keep this up and try and free our own weapons at the same time. We'll have to find some other way to fight back."

Cayden's efforts bought them a few moments to strategize. With both airships unable to fire upon one another, the battle was a stalemate. The paladin didn't want to continue this pointless spat any longer. Their enemy resided in the citadel. Whatever quarrel they had could be settled later. Regardless of his personal feelings, Rayne knew that no matter what the outcome was, the Lich King would be the one standing victorious.

The paladin rifled through his options. None of them boded well as the Horde would be too stubborn to listen to reason at a time like this. Rayne's growing apprehension coupled with the lingering anger from the outcome of their first encounter moments prior clouded his thoughts. He couldn't properly analyze the situation let alone find an outcome that would be mutually beneficially to both parties. However, the fact of the matter remained clear. The Horde came here seeking to kill the Templar Knights which meant the paladin's main priority was to see to it that they failed.

"Everyone on guard!" Commanded Rayne. He affixed his gaze on the dwarf and desperately called out to him. "Muradin! Can we lose them and head to the rendezvous point?!"

"Fraid not lad!" The dwarf shouted back. "Our port engine has been hit. Findle's down there now tryin' 'ta fix it but we can't do anythin' until either they sink or we do!"

"Damn it," cursed the paladin through clenched teeth. "I'll head down there and see if I can – "

Air wickedly sliced in front of Rayne's face seemingly cutting his misty breath in half. He turned his gaze at the source of the disturbance where another manically axe sped forward looking to cleave his skull in two filthy pieces.

Golden light shined before the paladin. The flying weapon bounced harmlessly off and collapsed on the deck before him. Rayne turned and caught a glimpse of Zariyana projecting a wide barrier of light around the Templar Knights. Her sharp mind and quick thinking spared the paladin from a potential splitting headache.

"Axethrowers," called Saurfang. "Hurl faster!"

The Horde soldiers peppered the priest's barrier in a hail of bladed fury. Their attacks seemed futile as even the great strength of an orc could do little to break a skilled wielder of the light's barrier especially from the great distance they stood apart. Unfortunately, this now mean that both Cayden and Zariyana's abilities were locked keeping the group protected. In the blink of an eye, two of the Templar Knights were taken out of the fight and it was just getting started.

"Stand fast!" The paladin ordered. "We'll – "

"Look out!" Interrupted Marcus.

The Templar Knights scattered as arcane energy ripped through the dome of light. Zariyana was the only one to hold her ground. Any moment of lapse in her concentration would weaken the barrier and put them all at risk to the axethrowers.

Flickers of multicolored light cracked and snapped above them. It split into the air and slowly took shape forming a large portal. The paladin darted his eyes over towards Ogrim's Hammer and watched as the Battle-Mage conjured a similar looking arcane spell upon their own ship. Saurfang shouted at his troops and several heavily armed soldiers made their way to the portal.

"Reavers, Sergeants, attack!"

Rayne's fears were instantly confirmed. The Horde's Captain was a brilliant strategist. For every move the Templar Knights attempted, the orc had a properly planned counter lying in wait. Their soldiers jumped through the open portal and immediately began landing within the priest's barrier and atop the deck of the Skybreaker ready to take them out one at a time.

"What's this then?!" Muradin barked. "Ye won't be takin' this son o' Ironforge's vessel without a fight!"

The dwarf blitzed forward with his axe and hammer drawn and engaged the orcish troops throwing all caution to the wind taking on two of the three currently on board all by himself. Ademski quickly followed suit and drew his own magnificent two-handed blade. He entered the fray alongside Muradin and began trading blows with the Horde soldiers. The remaining Knights stood on guard as the battle aboard their ship waged on.

Panic spread throughout the paladin's mind. It was only a matter of time before the Horde's sheer numbers overwhelmed them aboard the ship. Cayden was still stuck keeping the weapons encased in ice. Goblins furiously chopped away at the mage's efforts forcing him to continue channeling his spell. Unfortunately, the mage could neither attempt to counter the portal nor generate one of his own to allow the Alliance troops to board Ogrim's Hammer and put some much-needed pressure on them. There was only one option left. It went against the advice of his trusted engineering mentor but it was the only thing Rayne could think of to stop this threat from spreading to dangerous levels.

"Weasel!"

The paladin ran towards the stairs. Thankfully, Findle must have been too busy with the damage to the lower levels to put away the goblin jet-packs he warned Rayne about earlier.

"Right here boss!" The gnome stated while arriving at his guild leader's side.

"How many explosives do you have on you right now?"

Weasel thought for a moment while digging through his own backpack.

"I didn't exactly count but probably enough give that blasted ship a big stomach ache if I was over there," the gnome replied. "But how do you figure we'll be able to do – "

The air in Weasel's throat went dry as Rayne reached over and picked up a jet-pack. He affixed the device across his chest and secured it using the attached leather strap. Surprisingly, the gnome didn't offer a single word of defiance. Perhaps he knew that the Skybreaker being shot out of the air was a much crueler fate than a quick rocket jump aboard the enemy ship.

"Once we're across, sneak down to the lower levels and see if you can disable their engines," Rayne stated. "I'll buy you some time and hold off as many as I can on the deck above."

"Permissions to speak freely," the gnome requested.

"Go ahead," answered Rayne.

"You're nuts."

The paladin sighed. It was almost too good to be true to think that Weasel had found the strength to stifle his big mouth for even a single serious moment. Fortunately, before Rayne could think any less of him, the gnome continued.

"But, I can't think of anyone else I'd want watching my back," Weasel smiled. "Let's go you crazy kid."

The paladin nodded and ran through the center of the ship towards portside. He glanced over at the golden barrier for a quick status update. The first three orcish soldiers had been summarily defeated but more Horde troops were funneling through the portal. Marcus raised his titansteel forged mace on high. He prepared the engage the Horde alongside Ademski and Muradin but was stopped dead in his tracks as Rayne seized him by his beefy bicep.

"Marcus."

Piercing blue eyes stared deeply into the warrior's. They were sharp and steeled. The paladin looked upon him with grave intent as he uttered an extremely important order.

"No one else falls today," Rayne issued. His brow furrowed as a touch of anger fell upon his expression. "Whatever it takes."

Marcus only offered a single acknowledging nod in response. The paladin released his grip and scooped Weasel into his arm as they made their way for the end of the deck.

"Ready Weasel?!" Rayne shouted.

The gnome affixed his engineering goggles over his eyes and stared at the Horde's deadly vessel with a serious glare. They quickly approached the edge of the ship. The paladin took the launch control button in his hand. His thumb grazed the trigger as they reached the end of the line.

"Ready as I'll ever – "

"Raymond!"

Plate greaves skidded across the surface of the Skybreaker. The paladin stopped dead in his tracks with only a few moments to spare. His eyes darted toward the source of the sound. Narula stared upon him. Worry filled her expression. Without uttering another word, her shining silver eyes begged him not to continue. Sadly, this was the only way available to give them at least a chance at making it out of this alive.

"Take care of them for me Narula."

Rayne turned, slamming his thumb on the trigger and leapt off the edge of the airship.

* * *

The young elf's heart lifted. She'd had her damned bow drawn for the better part of a minute now with no clean shot at the night elf thanks to that insipid golden barrier. However, her biggest fear was dismissed as the horrific paladin was not only alive but attempting to board their own ship.

Trails of smoke spewed towards them in a large black arc. Templar flew into the air brandishing that big white shield of his with that horrendous red cross on the front. He sailed freely over the dull sky with trails of his long blonde locks whipping violently behind. Lorelei knew her true target was still aboard the Alliance vessel but it didn't mean she couldn't take a few pot shots at the paladin further weakening his body for the torment his mind had yet to face.

She quickly reached behind her back and seized an arrow. The young elf nocked it along the grip of her bow. Her sharp green eyes traced Templar's path as the completed the arc. Lorelei prepared to release the arrow upon his landing across that thick skull of his. Hopefully, she could knock those stupid goggles right off his head so the young elf could witness firsthand the terror in his eyes when she delivered his due suffering.

The paladin's plate boots sunk onto the deck. Wood cracked in defiance as he crashed upon a single knee. The string began slipping from Lorelei's slender fingers. Steel pointed between the mechanized eyes shielding Templar's face.

Suddenly, the young elf's grip immediately tightened. A mass of armor and blades crossed along the arrow's intended pathway. Her clear shot had been compromised. She let out a quick curse hoping against all evil intents that another one would soon present itself.

* * *

A furious orcish howl echoed into the sky. Rayne reached for his longsword. His gaze rapidly shifted upwards. The Captain's menacing form filled his vision. A crimson axe sliced viciously downwards like a bolt of lightning.

Instincts immediately took over. The paladin raised his shield. His entire body quaked. The blow resonated throughout his core and drove Rayne upon his back. He continued the roll along the deck until unexpectedly, the paladin's body became weightless and spilled over the side of Ogrim's Hammer.

Rayne reached upwards, clawing along the sides of the airship. His gauntlets scratched the wooden frame until stopping completely along the edge of a window. The paladin let out a painful cry. Flames ignited within his left shoulder forcing him to immediately release his grip and dangle above frozen wastes of Icecrown with a single hand.

The burn in his injured shoulder couldn't have come at a worse time. Rayne struggled to keep his armored mass clung to the side of the ship. Numbness radiated through his left arm. The paladin blocked many blows from orcs in the past but none of them carried the frightening power that Saurfang had displayed. Had he been standing, Rayne thought the orc would have sent him clear back to the Skybreaker.

Wood creaked along the tips of the paladin's fingers. He could no longer maintain the string to hang on despite the thought of a gruesome fall that awaited him if he didn't. If that wasn't enough, an ill realization now permeated throughout the paladin's stressed mind.

While he struggled to keep himself from falling, Rayne had failed to consider the life of the other Knight he brought with him to carry out this crazy strategy.

"WEASEL!"

The paladin scanned the area above and to the sides but could find no sign of the gnome anywhere. His heart beat immediately slowed to a crawl as Rayne gulped and peered down towards the snow-covered mountains below.

A black blur washed before his eyes. The paladin's cloak tugged at his neck as it entered the open window. Clinging to the golden cloth, Weasel landed safely aboard the vessel. The gnome had cleverly kept the cloak within his tiny grip and used the perpetual motion to launch himself into Ogrim's Hammer giving him clear access to the vital components keeping the Horde ship afloat.

"How long are you planning to hang out here?" Weasel calmly asked. "You okay Rayne?"

"Fine!" Cringed the paladin. "Just go. And hurry!"

"You're the boss."

The gnome disappeared into the bowels of the ship. If no one on the above deck saw him board, at least Rayne wouldn't have to keep them distracted for long. The problem was, his fight was far from finished. Saurfang stood over the edge of the airship. He ran his axe downward swiping the bladed edge across the steel surface and raining down a litter of hot sparking debris atop the dangling paladin's body.

Nerves chaotically twitched throughout his muscles. Rayne's arm was pleading to give up but he stifled that request knowing full well the pain of a stretched arm paled in comparison to a fall thousands of feet above the ground. Never in his wildest dreams would the paladin have thought his deeds and actions would lead him to a moment such as this. As his grip began to loosen, he thought of all of the things he had still yet to accomplish and beseeched his body to continue fighting in his desperate time of need. This was not how he was supposed to die.

The gauntlets ripped from the edge of the wooden window sill. Rayne's body became weightless once more. He stared up at the ship that slowly slipped from his weakened grasp. The trembling in his heart hastened to near explosive levels. It continued to quake beneath his chest as his boots crashed upon a squishy but surprisingly supportive surface.

The paladin looked down and caught a glimpse of his glorious savior. Thick brambles of roots rose from the side of the ship giving him a safe platform to stand upon. They curled around the window, spawning branch after branch in the guise of a ladder and allowing Rayne to reach the deck once more safely.

This all too familiar sight warmed the paladin's previously terrified heart. He passed a glance over towards the Skybreaker. At the edge of its deck, the night elf stared down upon Rayne with an outstretched arm radiating with glowing green energy. Narula had saved the paladin's life once more and given him a chance to continue his plan. However, the Horde's captain still loomed above. Unless he could distract him long enough, he was stuck in this safe but slightly uncomfortable position for the foreseeable future.

Rayne reached at the pouch hanging from his waistguard with his shield-bearing arm. He pressed his body against the airship, carefully taking a tiny flare from the sack and stealthily loading it into the hand-mounted pyro launcher underneath the bulwark.

"How long do you plan on trespassing upon my ship?!" Saurfang snarled as he continually ran his axe along the steel edge of Ogrim's Hammer. "Fight or die!"

The paladin clasped a branch tightly. He pushed himself back slightly and raised his free hand upward in a waiting gesture.

"You wish to surrender?" The orc puzzlingly asked. "Kor'kron! Stand – "

Hideous green light erupted through the slits of Saurfang's helm. The orc wailed in agony as the flare was stuck just inches from his threatening eyes. He stumbled along the deck of his ship, tossing the radiating piece of armor from his head and clutching his searing face in utter torment.

Rayne seized the opportunity at hand. He ascended the makeshift lander with great haste and stood upon the deck of Ogrim's Hammer. The paladin drew his longsword from its scabbard. Despite the majesty yet to be revealed from his new weapon, a hammer was ill equipped to duel with the large axe Saurfang wielded.

The orc let out a defiant cry as he regained his composure. He dismissed the Horde soldiers rushing to his side indicating to them his intentions to do battle one on one. Saurfang seized his axe and stomped towards the paladin. Each of his steps were slow and calculating. It forced Rayne to instinctively grip his weapon tighter. Whatever game of intimidation the Horde's Captain had utilized, it was clearly starting to work.

"Templar," hissed Saurfang. "I can see now why you were a thorn in Garrosh's side."

If there was one thing Rayne had in spades, it was his cunning mind for battle. He knew damn well there was no way he'd win an arm wrestling contest with an orc unless both of them were missing. However, the way the warrior described Saurfang put him in a league of his own. The paladin had to use the entire extent of his wit if he desired to survive through this. All of his friends fighting tirelessly behind him were counting on Rayne to ensure they all made it home alive.

"Lok'tar Ogar!"

Wood sprayed behind the orc has he barreled forward. He threw his deadly axe across his shoulder giving him as much room for threatening arc as physically possible. In the near blink of an eye, the sinister weapon came thundering forward. The paladin telegraphed the swing and swayed to the side. Air violently cut between them in the wake of Saurfang's swing. Rayne drove his shield forward, drilling the edge into the orc's wrist and causing his opponent to stumble once more.

"Why are you fighting us?!" The paladin shouted demanding the Horde Captain's answer. "We are not your enemy!"

"Aren't you?" Countered Saurfang as he took the axe into a single hand and swiped it backwards. The sharpened edge cut through empty air just moments after Rayne's face once took residence. "Your hands stained with as much blood as our own!"

The paladin jumped back while the onslaught of blows continued. He parried with his own sword as often as he could but Rayne feared the orc's massive strength may force the family heirloom out of his hands and kept its use to a bare minimum.

"How many of my brothers and sisters fell at Wintergrasp?!" The Horde Captain bellowed. "How many lives were thrown away to give the Alliance a few mere trinkets?!"

Rayne hadn't anticipated a battle of logic to coincide with their melee encounter. Another vicious swipe flew forward. The paladin caught the blow with his shield but the resounding force drove his greaves across the deck. He skidded along the wooden surface trailing a puff of grey smoke in its wake. While his weakened arm continued to burn with the pain blaring from his shoulder and the newfound anguish rippling from beyond the bulwark, Saurfang had at least put some distance between them to give Rayne a chance to regain his composure and continue this battle for at least another few moments. At the very least, he could attempt to taunt the Horde Captain and hopefully trigger his anger further to force a mistake or two upon him.

"You would foolishly put your soldier's lives upon the line for something petty as revenge when we stand before a greater threat?!" The paladin snapped. "What do you hope to gain on this day should you kill us?!"

Golden rays of light radiated from the blade of the Templar. Rayne funneled the powerful energy along the longsword and prepared to catch the orc's charge on equal footing.

"Blood for blood," Saurfang growled. "This is our justice!"

The orc raced forward with his weapon ready to cut down his opponent in a single fatal strike.

"If we fall," the paladin began, "the Lich King is the only one who wins!"

Steel cried in ravenous torment. Their blades clashed upon one another while each combatant pushed forward and tested the strength of the other. Rayne peered the orc's sharp green eyes. His resolve for battle was uncanny, however, there was something about the orc's tone that seemed off. It was as if he didn't believe in the words he spoke. Perhaps the Horde Captain was merely following the orders of his superior or maybe paladin's words had gotten to Saurfang.

The orc's vile breath wafted inches from Rayne's face. Thankfully, the light had blessed him with enough strength to counter Saurfang's and continue this engagement for a few moment's longer. The paladin hoped he had bought his companion enough time to disable the ship as planned. He didn't know how much long he'd be able to keep this up as the Horde Captain pressed forward and forced Rayne back a step.

A hideous wail tore through the sky. The paladin's goggles blared catching a glimpse of the Battle-Mage shrieking as a pair of daggers dug into each eye socket. Weasel heroically leapt over the elf, leaving both thin blades buried within his skull, and kicked off his forehead propelling the assassin forward. The gnome had seemingly completed two tasks altogether as the portal dissipated into the air as if it were never there.

The battle aboard Ogrim's Hammer was coming to an end Rayne needed to disengage and jump back aboard his ship before the explosions took him and the ship down together. The Horde Captain was not giving him an inch to do so. Saurfang snarled as his weapon's sharp edge crept downwards atop the paladin's exposed skin. The light's strength waned from his grip. Rayne couldn't overpower the orc as he stood but fortunately, Weasel had come to his rescue in the form of a cunning but deadly ruse.

The paladin removed his gaze from his opponent and looked down. Saurfang was strong but not a fool either. He too sought out was called Rayne's attention away from him. A sense of dread wafted over them as the spiked orb of a saronite bomb rolled under their feet and came to a stop just between them. The lit fuse was only seconds away from reach the core. It was time for the orc to decide what was more important, taking the paladin's life or saving is own.

Saurfang hissed and dove towards the center of the deck. Rayne smirked as he pressed his shield down atop of the explosive and called out to his speeding gnomish companion.

"Climb on!"

Wood cracked underneath the wake of the bomb's detonation. The resounding blast sent the paladin flying backwards with Weasel clutching desperately to his neck. Rayne tapped the trigger and ignited the jet-pack once more. They hurled into the air leaving a trail of thick black smoke behind them as they flew. Ogrim's Hammer began to shrink before their eyes. The paladin cleared the distance, sailing through the sordid skies of Icecrown with relative ease and watched the remaining orcish troops cursing his existence.

Explosions rang out all along the airship. Smoke bellowed from the windows with exasperating ferocity. The crewman cried out in terror, aimlessly running to put out fires and tend to the vehement damage dealt to the engine room. Weasels efforts had proved effective. Ogrim's Hammer began to sway slightly from side to side as it struggled to keep its course next to the Alliance airship.

The deck of the Skybreaker crunched as Rayne and the gnome landed safely upon it. An ominous air surrounded the paladin. He peered downward through the yellow lenses of his engineering goggles and paid the Horde one final grim look. Saurfang reciprocated in kind, not taking his dark green eyes off the paladin's. Rayne didn't want it to end this way. Fighting alongside the Horde instead of against them was preferred. However, after the earlier events, the paladin was willing to take the extra measures at his disposal to ensure the safety of his companions. At the end of the day, when it came down to saving the Horde or saving his friends, the Templar Knights won in every scenario.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya, scoundrels!" Muradin taunted. Ogrim's Hammer was filling with smoke as it started its descent towards the frost filled lands of Icerown. The dwarf turned to his crew and soldiers and called out to them in victory. "Onward, brothers and sisters!"

Rayne continued to watched the Horde airship slowly veering away. The sounds of battle upon the Skybreaker had ended signaling the threat was officially over. He wasn't sure how many prisoners of war they had or how many bodies they would be submitting for burial. Either way, the Templar Knights survived another trying ordeal and that's what mattered the most.

* * *

Constant and unfiltered screams coated the chilling air. The ship was falling from the sky and every second that passed put the young elf further and further away from her target. Templar had made a fool of her again and she was not about to let ruin another chance for vengeance.

Lorelei made her way to the bow, quickly rushing passed the frantic crew, and jumping onto the ship's edge. Her menacing green eyes began to brighten. The paladin was standing like an imbecile puffing his chest outward while his attention was drawn toward the deck of the ship. The golden barrier protecting the rest of them had gone down. He was completely out in the open with no inkling as to the threat awaiting him.

The young elf drew the crimson feathered arrow from her quiver and lined up the shot. They were no more than thirty yards away but the distance was growing quickly. She'd hit dozens of targets from nearly twice that range without even flinching. The arrow's edge pointed square at Templar's chest. Her fingers tightened as she hungered to release the string. She prepared to let loose it when suddenly, the fate that had been so utterly deplorable to her over the last several months had finally dealt Lorelei a blessed opportunity.

From the remnants of the battle aboard their deck, the one in question finally made her appearance and stood alongside the paladin. Her brash amethyst hair flowed graciously in the winds of their travel. Those deplorable long ears were a dead giveaway that this was the elf that Templar harbored great affection for.

Somewhere in the darkness surrounding the young elf's emotions, her heart sunk ever so slightly. Despite her utter hatred brewing within, Narula was more beautiful than she originally anticipated. Competing against her for the paladin's affections appeared to a lost cause even before it started. Fortunately, that was all in the past now.

The distance had spread to nearly fifty yards. Time was running short and her new target was growing smaller with every breath. Lorelei shifted her aim and pointed the arrow at the damned night elf. She smiled and prepared to fire when a pair of glowing silver eyes looked upon the falling airship. Narula scanned the area and as soon as she looked towards the bow, the young elf shifted her aim once more and pointed the poisoned arrow at the heart of the wayward paladin.

Their eyes finally met and in that instant, the young elf smirked and let loose the deadly arrow.

* * *

A rush of pain swelled upon the paladin's side as he tumbled down. The lingering wound in his shoulder flared up once more. He cringed hoping to quell the discomfort quickly. Whatever blind sighted him knew exactly what to do and how hard to hit in order to take him off his feet.

Rayne opened his eyes. The paladin found himself laying upon the deck of the Skybreaker. He looked outward to identify the source of the strike and quickly reached for the blade strapped to his waist.

Horror seeped into his mind. Rayne's expression dimmed until it was fully encased in a terrible darkness. His lips quivered, paralyzed to say anything as the air in his lungs evaporated. Standing before him was the gracious night elf. A deadly arrow had found its way from the falling ship below and buried its head within her chest. The paladin's eyes exploded open as he watched Narula tumble over the edge of the Skybreaker and fall towards the snowy depths below.

 **End of Act I**


	12. Chapter 11

_Menethil Harbor_

 _Wetlands_

 _20 years ago_

"I'm going to get you Raymond!"

The little black haired girl flailed her thin wooden stick carved in the vague shape of a sword as she continued to taunt and chase the young noble. Large blue eyes stared back at hers as a wide grin formed on the blonde child's face.

"You'll have to catch me first Lena!"

Tufts of grass kicked off in a huff. Raymond sprinted towards the large oak tree in the courtyard of the keep with his own crudely carved weapon clutched in his grip. He rounded the thick trunk nearly five feet in diameter and pressed his back upon it.

"You think you can hide from me?!" The girl taunted. "No tree is going to save you this time!"

The young noble continued to smile as he pulled upon a nearby branch. He cringed utilizing every ounce of strength his tiny muscles hand and held the twig back. The thundering of tiny footsteps quickly approaching his position signaled that his target was about to arrive.

"There's nowhere to run Raymond!" She cried out running around the wide trunk. "Prepare to –"

The young noble released the branch. Lena shrieked as she raised her own stick in defense. The two pieces of wood collided in great haste and sent the young girl reeling until she collapsed on her backside.

"Ow," she whined rubbing the new wound on her tailbone. "That –"

A thin stick stood inches from her face. She quickly pulled back as a wave of fear swept over her.

"The duel," Raymond began as a powerful smirk formed upon his tiny lips. "Is mine."

Lena's brow furrowed. Anger swelled within her eyes as she glared upon the young noble standing before her with intensity.

"That's not fair!" She pleaded. "You cheated! How can it be called a duel if you used the stupid tree to win?!"

Raymond looked down upon her curiously as if her query had nothing to do with the matter at hand. He continued to keep the makeshift sword pointed at her face and attempted to justify himself.

"But father said a knight should be more cunning in battle and utilize anything in their surroundings to defeat their opponent," the young noble casually answered. He looked outward towards the keep where an elderly man sat on a bench watching the two with mild interest. "Isn't that right father?"

Lord Templar amused himself by watching the children play in between casual glances from the small tome sitting upon his lap. Two guards dressed in shimmering steel armor stood on opposing sides of the stone bench. Their grand white tabards shined brightly in the high sun above. The embezzled red crest of the Templar sat powerfully in the center.

"That is correct Raymond," the old man smiled. "But you are forgetting the first and most important lesson in combat: never take your eyes off your opponent."

The young noble raised an eyebrow.

"Huh?"

Pain snapped with wicked velocity across the back of Raymond's knee. He quickly fell landing completely flat upon his back. His eyes clamped shut hoping the continued torment would disperse as rapidly as it appeared. Upon opening them, he found himself on the opposite end of a recently familiar situation.

"Who's the winner now?" The young girl teased with her stick resting gently atop his chest. Her smile widened as looked upon him menacingly. "Say it…"

The stick fell from the young noble's hand. It rolled across the grass until coming to a stop at a nearby root. His head fell back and stared upon the upside down world behind him marveling at its beauty for just a brief moment before admitting defeat.

"I surren- "

Raymond's words were cut from his throat upon eyeing the new visitor just beyond the fence of the courtyard. She was wearing a simple brown dress with a stained white apron atop it. Her dirty brown hair was wrapped haphazardly in a bun above her head.

"Miss Goodwin?"

The young noble immediately sat up.

"Father!"

Raymond rushed to his feet. He stood up and peered towards the fence. Miss Goodwin was the caretaker of a local orphanage. Even though the Second War had ended and the people of Loredaeron could finally breath easily, there were still a lot of children left in this world whose parents tragically died to protect the rest of them. Lord Templar was one of the biggest sponsors of the orphanage and he would frequently invite Miss Goodwin into the keep to check on things and offer assistance. It wasn't uncommon to see her dropping in unexpectedly from time to time, however, the thing that called out most to the young noble was the vague image of another small creature attempting to remain hidden from view.

The young girl stood at his shoulder hoping to catch a glimpse of what had stolen Raymond's complete attention. Her frustration grew as he remained silent. Even his expression remained unchanged.

"What are you staring –"

"I think you should run along home now Lena," the old man stated placing a gentle hand upon her small shoulder. "Please give your father my regards."

She shot him a quick glance and noticed the deep level of concern in his eyes. Her head sulked as she begrudgingly nodded in agreement.

"Yes Lord Templar."

The young girl sprinted off towards the main gate. She didn't even wave goodbye and after a few moments, completely faded from view.

"Come along Raymond," ordered Lord Templar. "Let us properly greet our guest."

The head of the Templar household waved at the guards, signaling them to stay put. They acknowledged with a short nod but kept their hands hovering over the hilts of their blades as they had always been trained. The young noble walked alongside his father. Despite his diminutive size, Raymond was easily able to keep the same pace as his elder. They walked passed the courtyard, through the garden, and up a short grassy hill leading towards the fence where the caretaker stood. Raymond's eyes grew larger as he desperately sought to find the other amongst them hiding from view.

"Miss Goodwin," the old man spoke. "It's good to see you again. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit this afternoon?"

"Forgive me Lord Templar," the woman began bowing her head graciously in his presence. "I normally wouldn't trouble you with such trivial things but I –"

She struggled to find the words to properly express her sentiments.

"Do not fret Miss Goodwin," Lord Templar casually dismissed. "Tell me what happened."

The caretaker took a breath and looked the elder Templar in the eyes.

"Three days ago, I was walking along the beach to collect the fish trapped in the nets I had set the night prior," she began. "I was just about finished when I spotted a young girl face down in the sand a hundred feet away."

The young noble's heart slowly started to sink. He had heard tales from the orphans when paying the occasional visit about how they each ended up losing their parents. Every story was harder to hear than the last. Raymond braced himself and listened intently as the caretaker continued.

"There was a damaged raft built in a manner I had never seen before washed up against a rock. She was lying nearby as cold as a block of ice. I wrapped her in as tightly as I could and carried her back to the orphanage."

Lord Templar looked inquisitively at the caretaker. This sounded like the start of any of the typical abandonment stories she would share when a new orphan would arrive. However, the look on her face told the old man that this was anything but typical.

"Something seems to be troubling you," he gently posed. "What is the matter Miss Goodwin?

"It's the girl," Miss Goodwin stated. "I do not know how to explain it. But – "

The caretaker slowly reached behind her and gave the child clutching the back of her dress a gentle touch.

"It's alright child," she smiled. "There is nothing to fear. Come on out."

The girl took a short step from behind Miss Goodwin revealing a quaint blue dress. She slowly came into view, pushing her head out first draped over with a small white hood. Shadows obscured the rest of her face from view as she stood into the light and presented herself. Both of her hands continued to clutch on the caretaker's rough brown gown refusing to let go.

Lord Templar peered upon the orphan for a few moments. The young girl did not make eye contact with anyone, burying her gaze to the soft grass below. After a few moments, the old man looked upon Miss Goodwin with curiosity.

"She seems to be alright now," he calmly stated. "Why are you so – "

The caretaker placed a gentle hand upon the orphan's head.

"Do not be afraid," she softly spoke. "Lord Templar is a friend. He will show you kindness."

Not a single word was spoken from under the hood. Miss Goodwin took this as permission and slowly pulled it back. Silken strands of hair sat upon her head shining like amethyst gems. Her skin was illustrious and smooth, shaded in the color of lavender. Two large ears protruded from each side and bent to a shallow curve nearly a foot beyond from whence they started. A pair of gleaming silver eyes stared at both Templars, trembling with anxiety as they looked upon her.

"My word," the old man gasped. "An elf? But – "

The orphan shrieked and turned her eyes away from him once again. His immediate reaction seemed to frighten the child. He quickly lowered his guard and attempted to make the young one feel at ease once more while he gathered more information.

"I've never seen anything like it either my Lord," Miss Goodwin replied. "I thought her dead at first. Never have I seen skin turn such a color otherwise. Thankfully, she was breathing and I brought her home to look after her."

The elder Templar scratched his head. He could barely look at the child without his curiosity running rampant. In order to not offend the young one, he kept his questions brief.

"Does she have any lingering injuries?" Questioned Lord Templar. "Has she spoken to you at all about what happened to her?"

Miss Goodwin dejectedly shook her head.

"She slept for two days before finally waking. It took a while to calm her down seeing as there was no one else around that looked similar to her," the caretaker replied. "Since then, she hasn't said a word nor eaten much of anything. I fear the worst for her if this continues which is why I came to you for guidance and wisdom my Lord."

Stern eyes fell upon the child. No matter where she came from or how she ended up here, Lord Templar knew that she deserved to be treated fairly and kindly as all other orphans in Miss Goodwin's care. While he pondered the proper course of action, the elder Templar couldn't help but notice Raymond's enamored expression. He looked upon the young girl brightly and with kind interest. She continued to sulk away, only occasionally sneaking glances back upon him

"Very well Miss Goodwin," Lord Templar acknowledged. "Perhaps I can – "

"Your eyes," the young noble spoke. "They're so beautiful."

The orphan flinched and turned away once more.

"Forgive me," he kindly begged. "I don't mean to stare and yet, I can't look away. They're like two veins of silver but glow with a radiance worthy of gold."

"Oh my," the caretaker gasped. "Has Raymond always been a flat–"

Lord Templar raised a single finger to his lips requesting continued silence. They both looked upon the children with renewed interest as Raymond continued.

"You are so lucky," the young noble smiled. "The world must always look bright through your eyes."

Trickles of rapid breaths pushed through the young elf's lips. It grew quickly until she returned her gentle eyes back to him and continued giggling.

"Laughter?" Miss Goodwin inquired. "I never thought I'd hear such joyful sounds coming from this child."

"Now we know she can at least understand our tongue," commented the elder Templar. He looked upon Raymond and offered a short smile. "I believe she will be in good hands Miss Goodwin."

The two children seemingly ignored the adult conversation. He continued looked upon the young elf, captivated with each and every inch. Raymond tried to look away but he could see no one else. He attempted to pull his mind back but it would not obey. His heart yearned to learn everything he could about her and it desperately began with one crucial piece of information.

"My name is Raymond Nigel Templar," the young noble stated. He took a knee and extended his hand outward as he had always been taught when introducing himself to a proper lady. "Would you kindly tell me your name?"

The orphan struggled at first but her resistance quickly waned. She reached out and placed her slender hand atop his palm. Bolts of electricity coursed through Raymond's nerves. It was incredible soft, softer than any substance he had ever felt and wanted that feeling to embrace him all over. His blue eyes slowly lifted and stared upon her radiant silver lenses once more.

"My name," the young elf carefully began. "My name is…"

* * *

 _The Skybreaker_

 _Icecrown_

"NARULAAAAAAAAAA!"

The paladin kicked off the edge of the airship. He vaulted downward as the Alliance vessel swiftly shrank from view. Icy air sliced into Rayne's exposed skin, biting at him like ravenous wolves hungry to devour their prey. He ignored every clawing grasp. Nothing could take his eyes nor attention away from completing his dire task.

Winds furiously blew upward. The paladin shifted his body into the shape of a bullet, lowering his wind resistance and driving him down further and faster. He had to move quicker. He needed to get to her before it was too late.

Snow-laden mountains came into view. Rayne descended beyond the peak of one and he frantically chased the night elf's body. His goggles blared signaling direction and distance but they too were ignored like the voracious cold air. The paladin's body was numb to everything. His eyes only focused on Narula as she drew closer and closer to the unforgiving land below.

The distance between them slowly started to shrink. He could see the shimmering highlights from her glorious amethyst hair violently wafting in the wind to the intricate details of her purple armor coming into view. Rayne extended his arms outward. He clawed at the air begging gravity to grasp him tightly. The night elf was only mere inches from his grip as the mountain's edge quickly rose up to greet them.

* * *

 _Menethil Harbor_

 _Wetlands_

 _6 years ago_

"What do you think?"

Rayne turned and danced from side to side showing off the regal plates of his newly crafted armor. The intricate silver sheets of steel shined brightly in the morning sun. Every inch of this suit had been custom tailored by the finest smith under Lord Templar's employ and it truly showed. All that was missing was the matching helm which was still undergoing a few minor adjustments.

"It looks magnificent Raymond," the night elf replied returning with a bright smile.

They stood underneath a large oak tree. Narula was draped in simple blue dress with a familiar white apron draped over the front. Her hair was neatly styled in a ponytail with a short cloth tied across her forehead. She casually looked around the area as Rayne continued moving about excitedly showing off his new plate armor.

"Is that all you wished to show me?" She gently asked. "Your message earlier sounded quite dire. I had thought the worst but I'm happy to see you in good spirits. Unfortunately, I must get back quickly and assist Miss Goodwin with the chores."

The noble stopped dead in his tracks. He took a big gulp and steeled himself as best as he could before the thumping in his chest grew any louder.

"Well, yea! I was just so excited when it was finished and…" blushed Rayne. He could hardly look at her as he uttered the next words. "I wanted you to be the first to see it."

Her expression lifted, nearly gasping at the news. The night elf could barely keep her gaze upon Rayne as he continued to smile at her. They stood in silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say to the other. The noble tried to quell his hearts rumbling for just a few moments. Before the air grew anymore awkward, the silence was finally broken.

"So," Narula began. Her stance shifted. The night elf's gaze fell upward to the painfully blue sky above. "You'll be leaving tomorrow morning?"

Rayne took a deep breath and reflected briefly upon the decision he had made. The Third War had destroyed a kingdom and left the world in shambles. Those that were left were still trying to put the pieces back together. The noble knew in his heart that he was destined to help. Given everything that has transpired and the scar left upon those that wield the light, Rayne felt as if it were his very duty to take up that mantle.

"Yes," he nodded. "Your aunt will be here at daybreak to escort me. It's only a few days' travel but I'm excited to begin the training."

"For a whole year…" Her head lowered and she uttered the words underneath a faint breath barely above a whisper.

The hairs along the noble's neck stood on end. He could sense something in her tone was off and Rayne's instincts immediately kicked in.

"A year doesn't seem that long when you really think about it," he added in jest. "I know it's going to be tough and there will a be a lot of things I will miss about Menethil. And a lot of people as well."

Rayne paused for a moment. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. The noble shot a quick glance at Narula who refused to take her eyes off of him.

"Some more than others."

That was one of the boldest moves he's pulled off yet. Rayne had been trying to sort his feelings out towards the night elf for years. When he finally got a handle on them, it made speaking with her all the more challenging. The noble couldn't dare look her in the eyes now and opted to change the subject as quickly and seamlessly as possible.

"Have you given any thought about what you would like to do Narula?"

Both of the night elf's eyebrows slowly rose. She looked upon Rayne almost befuddled with the question in its entirety. The noble quickly caught on and suddenly a terrible wave of guilt fell over him for the way he phrased that question.

"Forgive me," he defended. "What I meant to say was, you've known for a long time my desire to become a paladin. I've been training for years in the ways of a knight with you always watching and supporting me. All of the hours of work I've put in has brought me to this very moment. Not a second goes by that I don't reminisce about all of the blood, sweat and tears I put into my training and yet, I feel as if tomorrow is only the beginning of my journey."

Rayne peered into the night elf's glistening silver eyes. Her expression had appeared to calm down a bit which put his heart at ease.

"With that being said," he continued. "I know what I want in my future but I've just foolishly realized that I have never once asked what you'd like to do with yours."

A soft wind passed between them. The grass whistled a gentle tune as Narula clasped her hands together and pressed them gently over her heart. She peered down upon them. Her lush lavender lips parted and the mystically angelic voice called out to him.

"I have given it some thought Raymond," the night elf answered. "For quite some time actually."

Rayne's expression brightened upon hearing that. He peered deeply into her eyes and eagerly clawed for answers.

"Really?" The noble's interest piqued and he desperately wanted to know more. "What have you decided?"

Narula's hands parted and fell to the side. Her eyes finally found their way to his once more. The night elf took several steps forward and closed the distance between them.

"Meet me tonight underneath this tree," she proudly replied.

She leaned in closely. A smile carefully formed upon her delicate lips before they pressed against the noble's cheek. A storm of emotions exploded from the point of impact. Rayne's nerves lit up like the Midsummer Fire Festival. The wave of pleasure nearly caused him to tremble where he stood. Before the noble could even regain his bearings, Narula lifted her lips and leaned in even closer. Their cheeks brushed together. He could feel the softness of her breath tickling his ear as the night elf finished.

"And I will gladly tell you."

Rayne froze as she slowly pushed herself away and took a step back. Blood encroached on his expression. He begged it to stop until he briefly caught the night elf's color also changing slightly. The noble's heart thundered within his chest. His mind raced with the thought of Narula's own feelings towards him and what potentially could be. He clenched his fist and commanded his emotions to obey as he prepared a declaration of his own.

"I have something to tell you tonight as well Narula."

The noble couldn't have felt more confident with his words. He was excited at the prospect of hearing what Narula had to say but more so with finally finding the time to properly confess his own feelings. The thought of rejection had crossed his mind a thousand times over. Despite all of the time and memories shared together, Rayne just couldn't get a handle of what the night elf was thinking. If his feelings were not returned, then at least he would have training to bury himself in and a year apart to get over it. However, if she accepted them, this would prove to be the hardest year of his life yet.

"I look forward to seeing you again one last time before my journey," the noble smiled. "Waiting for the sun to set will perhaps be the most –"

"Raymond!"

The sudden coarse voice calling out to him sent Rayne's conscious into a frenzy. He slowly turned his head, gazing over the spaulder and confirmed what his heard dreaded.

"Father," the noble sighed. "What brings you out here this afternoon?"

The elder Templar's patience seemed to be nonexistent. He stared upon Rayne with calculating eyes.

"Need I remind you once more?" He rhetorically posed. "You ran outside in such a huff that you've forgotten about your new helm that requires adjustments."

Lord Templar tapped his knuckles atop the noble's head. He used enough strength just to be noticed but not soon forgotten either.

"A smith cannot work with a missing set of tools," he continued. "And you musn't keep him waiting."

"Yes father," sulked Rayne.

While he was no stranger to scolding, the noble's father seemed unusually more irked than usual today. Perhaps it was because Rayne was leaving tomorrow and this was the old man's way of coping with it. However, the expression on his face spoke otherwise. Something else seemed to be bothering him and the noble was unable to decipher what it was. Before he could probe any further, Narula relieved the tension with a simple greeting.

"It is good to see you again Lord Templar," the night elf bowed.

"Narula," the elder Templar graciously called out. "You are looking well."

"Thank you," she modestly replied with a soft smile.

The noble was at a loss with what to do in this situation. For some reason, the tension between them did not appear to wane but instead, continued to bubble.

"Don't you have somewhere to be Raymond?"

"Right!" The noble frantically answered

Rayne took off in a dead sprint towards the keep. He turned around and waved goodbye to the night elf with a bright smile.

"See you tonight Narula!"

The noble raced across the grassy path. His heart continued to hum as the thought of their blissful meeting danced throughout his thoughts. Rayne couldn't wait to pour his feelings out to her. She was the most beautiful, kind, and magnificent creature he had ever laid his humble eyes upon. The noble was wrong about one thing. Tomorrow would not be the beginning his great journey, but rather, it was getting started tonight. Their fates would finally intertwine and be launched together under the moon's majestic light.

* * *

 _Icecrown Citadel_

 _Icecrown_

The paladin desperately wrapped his arms around Narula's body. He clamped on to her tightly, refusing to let go even if the world were to split in two underneath them. With the night elf finally in his arms, Rayne tugged on the ripcord near his spaulders. The golden cloak flailing in the air shot backwards and spread wide open increasing in size nearly tenfold.

Gravity's hold upon their bodies lightened. The paladin's neck jolted as they were pulled upwards against the unkind resistance of the parachute. Heavy pants continued to pour through Rayne's burning lungs. While their descent had slowed, it hadn't decreased nearly as much as he had hoped. The paladin snuck a peak upwards and verified his fears. Dozens of lacerations lined with ash littered the golden cloth. Findle was right. The damned jet-packs had burned a hole right through his cloak and nearly rendered his parachute unusable. Thankfully, it stopped them from falling like the shell of a cannon but it wasn't nearly slow enough to halt their approach on the mountain's jagged skin. While they may live through the ordeal, the pain alone may make them wish they were dead.

Rayne pushed all terrible thoughts aside. His only goal was to protect the night elf. The paladin's greaves crashed into the snowy hide of the risen foothills. He clutched Narula tightly as his backside slammed against the mountain and slid along the rocky path. Dozens of sharp stones buried from view within the snow clawed at his armor and skin. Every single edge resonated throughout his body leaving their ravenous mark as they raced to the ground below.

Snow continued to bellow, kicking off the paladin's steel plates in a torrent of fury. Adrenaline numbed his body from any and all pain that dared to present itself. The frozen teal tundra of Icecrown stood before them. Thousands upon thousands of undead minions walked the vast wastelands. While any Alliance soldier worth their salt would find great trepidation in the sight, Rayne paid them no mind. His enemy was not out there. The only adversary he cared to clash with was stuck in the night elf's tender chest.

The paladin kicked off the mountain just moments before they reached the bottom. He turned in mid air and planted his back against the unforgiving ground. Air ripped from his lungs. The swelling torment of the ride down slowly crept up on his as the adrenaline began to subside. Narula was still tucked into his powerful grip. Even the overwhelming agony beginning to coarse through him was no match for the relief he felt in securing her safety from the tremendous fall. Rayne stared upon the gray sky above begging his body not to slip into the blissful darkness of unconsciousness.

* * *

 _Menethil Harbor_

 _Wetlands_

 _6 years ago_

The moon's magnificent silver light caressed the entirety of the courtyard. Rayne stood underneath the oak tree just moments after the sun had finally set. The anticipation of what was to come made the wait nearly unbearable.

A glorious bouquet of kingsblood rested in the noble's tight grip. These were Narula's favorite flowers. While they were somewhat rare in this part of Azeroth, Rayne made sure to keep their garden full of them just for her. He kept the bouquet gently pressed along his back and hidden from view. The noble did not want to reveal his intentions outright. He wanted the moment to be perfect.

Grass began to crunch in the distance. Rayne's heart lifted as he peered outward. The night elf was bathed in shadows as she continued her approach towards him. Air furiously pumped in and out of his chest. The excitement of what was to come nearly overwhelmed him when suddenly, his heart began to dim.

As she stepped into the powerful silver light above, Rayne painfully realized this was not the night elf his heart called out to but another familiar face he had come to know over the past few months and even share a name with. She wore a simple long dress bathed in the colors of autumn and nature. Her sharp green hair illuminated in the moon's light like an emerald. She stopped just a few in front of him for the gentle features of her face to be revealed.

"Auntie Rayne?" The noble curiously inquired. "What are you doing here? Where is – "

"Forgive me Raymond" the night elf somberly interrupted. "I am burdened with the task of telling you that Narula will not be coming tonight."

Acid slowly poured over the noble's heart. His emotions fluttered while his mind raced with the countless thoughts of what could have been. With all of the questions beginning to peck at his mind, Rayne demanded to know the most crucial one first.

"But why?" He winced. "What happened?"

The night elf pulled her gaze away from him. Her eyes stared downward into the roots of the oak tree.

"Narula decided to seek training in the druidic arts," she began. "She has gone to Kalimdor to meet with our allies in the Cenarian Circle and begin her journey. Unfortunately, the only ferry available this month had to leave earlier this afternoon."

The air in Rayne's throat went dry. Miss Feathersong had regaled them with many tales about the Cenarian Circle and the makings of a druid; she was one herself after all. The training was fierce and competitive. Not all night elves were suited for the task and many don't even have the necessary skill and mentality to even begin. Of all people, the noble would have never suspected Narula had any interest in becoming a druid herself. If he had been wrong about that, perhaps there were plenty of other things about her that he misunderstood.

"I'm afraid it will be quite some time before you see her again Raymond," said the night elf. "I know this may be difficult for you to hear but please, don't let this affect your own – "

The bouquet of kingsblood fell from Rayne's grip and landed upon the grass beneath his feet. His heart sunk into a deep pit of despair. Why Narula decided not to ever inform him about her decision to become a druid burned at the back of his mind. He turned around and made a slow and somber trek back towards the keep.

Tears began to swell within the corners of the noble's eyes. He fought them back for as long as he could but the sharp stabbing pain in his heart refused to give him even an inch of leniency. Rayne trudged along the courtyard barely able to keep himself standing at times as he reached the keep's entrance. At the very least, the noble would have plenty to distract him in the coming months. His journey really did begin tonight as he anticipated and the first lesson he learned was the most painful to swallow.

Life never turned out the way you expected.

* * *

 _The Vile Hold_

 _Icecrown_

Light sparked within the paladin's mind. He slowly forced his body to rise from the cold ground, cradling Narula in his arms. The armies of the undead thankfully hadn't noticed their presence yet but if they continued to dawdle, this could turn into a whole other mess Rayne was in no spirit to deal with.

The parachute dragged along the ground pulling tufts of dirt and snow along with it. Thankfully, the area near the base of the mountain was desolate. The paladin scanned his surroundings quickly as he walked. His heart immediately lifted upon finding a small cave just a few paces away. It may not be the most elegant of places but at least they would be hidden. Rayne hoped that this cave didn't have any current tenants lying in wait. He didn't want to risk dropping the night elf, especially in this condition.

Forgoing all restraint, the paladin sprinted towards the mouth of the cave. Light pierced through several feet within the shallow surface and revealed nothing more than an empty space surrounding an ancient extinguished campfire.

Rayne immediate ran inside. He tugged at the parachute, keeping Narula aloft with only one arm and laid it out on the ground away from the prying Scourge eyes lurking the area. The paladin fell to his knees, chucking his engineering goggles aside and peering down upon the night elf with his own blue eyes. He laid her down atop his thighs and surveyed the damage. A powerful clutching darkness took hold of him once more. Rayne had hoped to never see her in such a dismal state. Narula's eyes were shut and her lavender lips were slightly parted. As much as his heart begged him to continue dwelling, his mind knew that time was of the essence. He had to work fast.

A gentle gauntlet fell atop of Narula's chest. The paladin seized the embedded arrow with his other hand and begged the light to give him strength. Though it didn't appear as if she could feel or sense anything, Rayne couldn't help but speak to her.

"Forgive me."

With a hearty tug, the paladin ripped the arrow out of her body. Blood began to gush out at a frenzied pace. His body shivered. This all too familiar sight fueled his brimming anxiety tenfold. Labored breaths pumped out of his chest at a maddening velocity as he placed his hands atop the wound and beseeched the light once more.

"Please!" Begged Rayne. "Please help me!"

He continued to plead. The paladin's words echoed into the empty cave. Crimson fluid started to wash over his gauntlets. The light was not answering his commands which only further fueled his frustration and fear.

"Come on, damn it!" Rayne shouted. "Listen to me!"

Golden rays of light exploded from his hands. The cave lit up in a flash of magnificence. The paladin could sense the powerful energy coursing through his gauntlet. It nearly overwhelmed him but Rayne was ready to bear any burden no matter the cost.

"I have to save her," he winced. "Please don't take her from me!"

The light's shine did well to illuminate the room but did little to stop the bleeding. Dread quickly washed over his emotions. The paladin looked upon Narula's face and a new surge of terror struck his expression. Her veins slowly started to protrude and glow with a sickening red light. They rose from the wound in her sternum and began working their way up through her neck.

 _Poison…?!_

Rayne knew he had to act quickly before but it appears he had been going about it all wrong to begin with. All of that wasted time drew the night elf closer and closer to death. Paladins and priests the world over have been taught that the light could heal all wounds but in this case, not even Rayne's efforts could stop whatever vile substance was coursing through her veins.

A horrific cry wailed within the small confines of the cave. The paladin's lungs burned with the fury of a volcano as he shouted in manic defiance. At his most desperate time of need, the light ignored his pleas. The enigmatic quintessal energy may have been potent to slay the undead and destroy the clouds of darkness but it appeared completely powerless to save the life of a single night elf that meant the world to him.

Suddenly, his mind snapped and focused on a blessed memory not long ago. Rayne immediately removed one of his hands and reached for the warhammer clutched hung upon his waist. This weapon shared an unspoken bond with the paladin. He could sense a divine presence lurking within. Despite the odd initial reaction upon seizing it, this was his last vestige of hope to save Narula.

The blood-stained gauntlet wrapped around the hilt of Light's Redemption. Light exploded once more into the cave. Blinding white energy raged throughout the area. The paladin's eyes became infused with the ambient power. Gone were the piercing blue irises that dwelled within. A sea of gold washed over them as Rayne funneled the light through his hand and into the night elf's body.

Heavy breaths crashed through the cracks of his clenched teeth. With every passing moment, the paladin felt as if he had been battling for hours instead of the few moments prior. His strength began to dissipate but fortunately, his resolve did not. Rayne channeled his entire essence to the brink of exhaustion. Nothing mattered to him now. Without her, nothing mattered at all.

A great flood of elation swept over him. The thick red veins rising towards the night elf's head began to dim. Her smooth lavender skin finally returned to its great elegance. The wound in her chest slowly started to close. All of the lost blood evaporated against the light's powerful rays. A smile finally found its way on the paladin's lips. After all of his desperate efforts and pleas, he was finally rewarded with the one only thing he desired.

Light's Redemption fell from his grip. The warhammer hit the ground with a powerful thud. Light slowly dissipated from the head of the weapon. Rayne furiously panted as sweat poured from his brow. His endurance nearly gave up but thankfully, not a trace of crimson goo nor a single scar remained on Narula's pristine flesh. Only her armor suffered a minor gash from where the arrow had initially penetrated. If that was the only price to pay this ordeal, it would surely be worth it.

The paladin fell back against the wall and allowed himself a few moments to catch his breath. Mists of frost puffed before his eyes. The seeping cold slowly resonated along his skin. Old wounds made their presence felt once more. His back began to burn with a rage of the fiery Blackrock Mountain. Even with that seeping agony desperately crying for attention, it did not cut through the sheer elation overcoming Rayne at this moment.

Rapid beats began humming inside the paladin's chest. Too much time had passed and the night elf still remained in his arms, unmoving and without a single breath passing through her lungs.

"No…" Rayne shuddered. "No. No! No! NO! NOOOOOO!"

He fell atop her body. Grief clutched at his swift beating heart. Tears flooded from his eyes and stained the wraps of Narula's leather armor. The paladin's body listened to nothing but the instincts of his emotions. Try as he might, the night elf was not waking up. The light, in all its magnificence had failed him for the first time.

There was no greater pain than the great void of emptiness boring though his heart. Even the rejection of his feelings paled in comparison. Rayne would have relived that moment a hundred times over if just to hear her gentle voice calling out to him once more.

The paladin continued to tremble. His sadness exploded in a terrible storm. Memories of their time spent together, the love he held, and the future that no longer awaited them clouded his mind. Rayne was numb to his entire surroundings. He could no longer feel anything but the sheer despair filling his heart. Nothing could spare him from watching his beloved die in his arms, not even the slender arm gently clutching across his back.


	13. Chapter 12

_Deathbrigner's Rise_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

The engines started slow down as the Skybreaker reached the rise of the upper platform. Every turbine aboard the vessel hummed in rhythmic fashion. Crewman alike began throwing ropes across for the deboarding preparation. A set of wooden stairs were revealed from underneath the rolling compartment below deck. A pair of footmen began turning a set of opposing cranks as the steps slowly made their way to the edge of the upper spire.

Menacing saronite blades hung along the ledge of the circular platform. A short set of teal steps rose to a large iron door. The ridges of this rise were littered with bones much like the ramparts below. There didn't appear to be any other guards or scourge minions within a thousand feet of this area. However, everyone had to keep their guard up for what lurked beyond was the real threat to this entire crusade.

"Easy as she does it lads," the dwarf ordered. "Captain Bartlett, turn the –"

"What are we doing here?!" The female Legend twin snapped. She stomped her way through the rest of the Knights staring at the edge of the airship in awe and confronted the captain directly. "Why did you leave him –"

"Calm down Zariyana!" Samuel intervened. He stepped in between his sister and Muradin hoping to quell the female priest's growing unrest. She had rarely shown this heightened level of emotions. Despite her personal feelings, the noble standing they shared is on the verge of being shattered should Zariyana not keep her passionate sentiments in check. "There's nothing they could have done to stop him let alone chase after him."

"How can you say that?!" She growled. "After everything you've –"

"Don't be too hasty lass. It was yer lad that jumped of his own volition," Muradin retorted. "We all watched him go over. Unless ye have a time machine under yer robes, there's nothin' we can do about that now."

"I sure as hell can!" The enraged priest fired back. "Watch –"

"Whoa," the warrior brashly stated. "As much as I'd like to see the ice-princess get all fired up, Muradin's right on this one."

Marcus took a breath and allowed everyone's moods to settle in the thick silence. He turned his gaze towards the gnome staring intently over the edge of the Skybreaker.

"Hey Weasel," he called. "Find anything yet?"

The gnome dejectedly shook his head.

"It's hard to see anything from this height," he answered peering through the zoomed purple lenses of his engineering goggles. "I can at least confirm Rayne's parachute deployed but that thing looked like a brick of Alterac swiss. They must have hit that mountain pretty hard. A bunch of snow just exploded off the side near their landing point. That could only mean –"

Weasel surveyed the rest of the Knight's faces stopped himself before saying anything too rash. Even the gnome, who arguably had the biggest mouth amongst them still could find the tact to watch his own words. However, the female Legend twin's expression continued to dim.

"Which is all the more reason why we should go after –"

"Please, young one," Ademski interrupted. "We all wish to rescue Narula and Templar. However, we cannot let our emotions dictate our duty. It is what he would have wanted, no?"

"He's right," commented the mage. "I too share in everyone's distress but the fact of the matter is we have no idea what has happened or even if our intervention would be worthwhile at this point. I wonder –"

"I wonder why I'm the only one upset about this!" Scolded Zariyana. She looked around at the lot as her disdain for their words culminated to their near breaking point. "How can all of you speak like this? Does Rayne mean so little to the rest of you that –"

The priest's words were silenced instantly when Saelena gently clutched her shoulder. She could sense the burning rage building within Zariyana. The mute draenei stared at her with an empathetic gaze. She peered beyond the female Legend twin's golden eyes and found the overwhelming pain buried beneath. Even though she had lost the ability to convey her feelings through words, Saelena said everything she needed to with just a simple glance.

The tense air between them finally started to settle. Zariyana calmly removed herself from the group and walked towards the edge of the deck. She stared outwardly, not looking at anything specific and attempted to calm herself while the others continued.

"We're almost finished here, right?" Marcus asked the dwarf. He pointed outward towards the spire and continued. "All we have to do is open that door right there and the Argent Crusade takes over from here?"

"Aye lad," answered Muradin. "This space is suitable to set up a secondary command post. I've got word from King Varian than he'll be making his way here once we confirm the path is clear."

"And then we can go search for Rayne and Narula?" Samuel posed.

The fact that the King of Stormwind and venerable leader of the Alliance was making a personal appearance did little to sway the Templar Knight's attitude over the current situation. They desperately wanted to search for their missing companions but duty forced them to do otherwise. However, it didn't mean that Rayne and Narula would be ignored. The task of searching for their current whereabouts would just be deferred.

"I'll do you one better lad," smiled the dwarf. He looked upward and waved at the crew near the pilot's deck. "Captain Bartlett! As soon as we exit the vessel, take the Skybreaker into Icecrown and send a team to search for their missing companions."

"Aye aye, Captain Bronzebeard!" The High Captain saluted.

"That settles that," Muradin cheekily grinned. "Now then, that door is the only thing standin' in our way and I'm fixin' to knock on it with this here hammer. I'd love some company if you and yer men care to join me."

"With pleasure," the warrior stated.

The Templar Knights followed closely behind the dwarf and pair of guards hand-picked from Ironforge to accompany the king's brother. They descended down the wooden steps with great haste with the exception of the twin priests. Zariyana was the last to take her leave. Her brother waited for her at the height of the stairs. The female Legend twin looked solemn but kept her resolve up. Despite their personal feelings on the matter, duty must come first. It was just as they had always been taught.

They arrived together at the base of the rise. Muradin set out first towards the door with his guards in tow. The warrior followed closely behind. A biting cold pierced their lungs. The altitude was much higher here than nearly any other point in the surrounding region save for the great rise atop central spire within the citadel. One false move would send an unlucky adventurer spiraling to their death. Marcus had already witnessed two of his companions take a similar spill. He didn't dare wish that on any others.

"Do you want to ring the bell or should I?" Quipped the warrior.

A little humor brought a lot of levity. If he could do what his leader could not, then perhaps it will put everyone in the proper mindset for what they were about to do. All that was left was to open the door and they could finally get back to what really mattered.

"Let's get a move on then!" Muradin grinned. "Move ou-"

The iron doors of the upper spire violently flung open. Steel rattled atop the rise and quaked the ground before them. Stepping through the opening, a dreaded foe appeared before them. He was covered in hideous plates of black armor darker that the night itself. Massive spaulders featured deadly barbs and spikes along the edges. Skulls were carved into the gauntlets and greaves. Their glowing yellow eyes stared deathly at any who opposed.

"For every Horde soldier that you killed - for every Alliance dog that fell, the Lich King's armies grew," spoke the creature. His words echoed with an intimidating tone. "Even now the val'kyr work to raise your fallen as Scourge."

A menacing greataxe rested firmly in his grip and glowed with an ominous runic enchantment. The hulking orc's gray skin looked decayed and rotted from several areas. His hollow blue eyes stared back at the intruders that dared to stand before him.

"Holy shit," gasped Marcus. "It can't be… Saurfang?!"

"No way!" Cayden fired back. "He was just on the ship. How could he have –"

"Not Varok," the male Legend twin interrupted. "This is his son, Dranosh. I heard he perished at the Wrath Gate but this..."

Samuel paused for a moment and took a breath. It appears the orc and famed son of the Warsong Offensive Overlord had been raised as a death knight to serve the Lich King in eternal unrest. The priest was surprised to not see any resistance awaiting them at the top of the spire. What they ended up finding was much worse than he anticipated and his next somber words were an extension of that sentiment.

"This is truly distressing."

"Things are about to get much worse," taunted Saurfang. He raised his axe on high and snarled at the opposing force before him. "Come, taste the power that the Lich King has bestowed upon me!"

"A lone orc against the might of the Alliance?" The dwarf posed.

The guards at his side readied their weapons. A tinge of anxiety crept up the warrior's spine. Varok Saurfang was a fearsome adversary as is. Rayne had barely managed to distract him long enough and skated away from their encounter with his life still in tact. Dranosh, on the other hand, was a warrior in a class of his own. The tales of his deeds and conquests in Northrend rivaled that of his father. Some say he was poised to surpass him but that thought swiftly ended when he foolishly charged at the Lich King at Angrathar. And now Muradin Bronzebeard and his guard were poised to make the very same mistake.

"Wait!" Marcus shouted. "Stop! Don't –"

"Charge!" The dwarf yelled.

His words fell upon deaf ears as the dwarves sprang forth and launched their assault upon Dranosh. Their weapons were raised and lungs burned with a tremendous battle cry pouring through their thick lips.

"Dwarves…" Sighed the death knight.

With a wave of his gauntlet, Dranosh commanded a dark and vile energy. It shot forth from his palm and latched around the throats of the three dwarves. They whined in agony, choking from the immense pressure of the crackling power slowly crushing their necks. Air slowly stopped seeping through the forcibly sealed passages.

"Damn it!" Cursed the warrior. "Sam! Zari! Get Muradin and his men out of there! NOW!"

Marcus retrieved the mighty titan-steel forged mace slung over his back. The dwarves were not going to last long being suffocated by Saurfang's deadly grip. Unless the priests freed them within the next couple of minutes, the warrior was going to find himself explaining why he couldn't save Muradin directly in front of the King of Ironforge. In order to ensure their survival, Marcus gripped his mace and prepared to initiate Plan B.

"Hey Saurfang!" The warrior barked. "You know what, if things had gone the way I planned, I may have ended up just like you."

The Legend twins stood on opposing sides behind Marcus and began channeling gouts of divine energy within their palms. If he could keep the death knight distracted for a little while longer and let them work, then perhaps it would make the upcoming battle a hell of a lot easier. Judging by the orc's immense stature and unnerving glare, they were going to need all of the help they could get.

"Turns out," continued the warrior, "that would have probably been the last bad decision I ever made."

Saurfang gripped his axe tightly. Marcus slowly made his approach, dragging his mace across the ground. The gnome and draenei quickly made their way to his side with their weapons drawn. With a knowing glance, the warrior ordered them to stand strong but hold their position.

"I've made a lot of those in life," he stated. A small chuckle exited his lips as he continued. "By the looks of things, so have you."

His words seem to have chipped away at the intimidating barrier of the death knight. Marcus kept a tight grip of his mace as he continued.

"Before I came to this frozen hellhole, I had originally been asked to accompany a legion of footmen to be stationed at Fordragon Hold," the warrior added with a smirk forming upon his lips. "Can you believe it? We would have been fighting right alongside each other at the Wrathgate."

Saurfang seemed unimpressed with that insight. The Legend twins were still frantically working hard attempting to free the dwarves from their maniacal chains made from black energy. Fortunately, the warrior was not finished yet.

"I was sitting at a tavern near the docks at Stormwind," remarked Marcus. "My bags were packed and I was preparing to set sail in just a few hours when out of the corner of my eye I spot some young punk with blonde hair accompanied by a sweet looking night elf if I do say so myself."

The warrior stopped as the distance between them had closed to nearly a dozen paces.

"I tell ya, this kid didn't look like he'd seen a day's worth of real combat," Marcus teased. "His armor was pristine and the way he carried himself was too polite and forthcoming it was borderline arrogant. At least, that's what I first thought anyways."

Samuel let out a defiant curse. The warrior took that as a sign that things were not going their way. Time was passing quickly and if they couldn't free Muradin, then it was up to Marcus to convince the death knight to release him and his guards the only way he knew how.

"I come to find out that these two kids were here to see me," the warrior shrugged. "They pitched some radical idea of forming a unique guild unlike anything I had ever heard of. I was never an adventurer, I was just a soldier. What he was selling was something I wasn't looking to buy."

Marcus flung his mace upward. The titan-steel forged weapon rested firmly across his shoulders as he continued.

"But the more he kept talking, the better it sounded," he said with a genuine smiled pursing upon his lips. "I couldn't believe it myself really. After only a few minutes and offering to pick up my tab, the damn kid not only convinced me to join his brigade, but also, inevitably spared me from a fate that you were too weak to overcome yourself."

The mace shot from his shoulders. Each horn embezzled upon its head pointed straight at the death knight.

"That kid saved my life that day," stated the warrior. "And each one since I've been looking for a way to pay him back."

Marcus' tone grew dim. His expression darkened as the torrent of rage brewing within his heart slowly bubbled towards the surface.

"Now that kid has risked his life once again to save one of our own," he remarked. "And the only thing stopping me from joining him is your ugly mug."

The warrior's stance shifted. He readied his mace for a charge and looked upon his opponent with a deathly glare.

"The way I see it, there are only two options left for you Dranosh," Marcus snidely said. "Either you get out of my way and fling yourself off this spire… Or I'll do it for you."

The death knight let out an angered grunt. His axe whined as each gauntlet tightened across it's thick handle. Saurfang snarled at the warrior on last time and prepared to engage.

"BY THE MIGHT OF THE LICH KING!" The orc cried.

All of the brimming fury held within Marcus reached its boiling point. His veins popped as the adrenaline flooded through at an unfathomable speed. The warrior let out a tremendous shout. Shock waves erupted from the origin. Even the very walls of the mighty Icecrown Citadel quaked in response as Marcus blitzed forward anxious to make good on his promise.

* * *

 _The Vile Hold_

 _Icecrown_

A rush of delicious air flooded into the night elf's lungs. Her eyes immediately popped open. Narula stridently gasped as the life-sustaining element returned into her body where it belonged. Labored breaths continued to pump at a frenzied pace.

The paladin's heart froze. He pulled himself away from her body. Tears still flooded his vision. From the blurry mess of his emotions, he could make out the beautiful glowing silver eyes of his beloved staring desperately back at him.

"Na… Rula?" He meekly panted. "By the light…"

Rayne fell atop her once more. He lifted her up and clutched her shoulders in a fit of joy. His sorrow-filled tears evaporated in an instant and were quickly overwhelmed by the immense happiness coursing through him.

"I can't believe it!" He continued. "You're… You're… "

The words couldn't find their way to the paladin's throat. He was so overcome with emotions that his body could barely process what his mind commanded. Somehow, the light had sought fit to grant Rayne his selfish request. Even after he was convinced it had betrayed him, this moment proved that he should never forsake this glorious power ever again.

Narula's breathing had finally calmed down. She returned the paladin's sentiments with a gentle squeeze. Rayne's body trembled as the sadness finally washed away. As much as he wanted to keep the night elf in his arms and never let her go, the paladin greatly desired to look upon her face once more. It took everything he had in him to slowly push her back and break their embrace.

"Where are we?" She curiously posed.

The night elf carefully pulled herself away and sat upon her knees next to Rayne. She surveyed the small cave illuminated faintly by the light pouring through the entrance.

"What hap –"

Her words were silenced upon seeing the damaged parachute they both knelt upon. After a few short moments, Narula was able to piece together the events that had transpired. Her body began to shiver as her head sulked forward. Both of her slender hands landed atop each of her knees. The glorious strands of her amethyst colored hair washed over her face and buried her expression from the paladin's view.

"Why?"

The night elf's query was weak and full of despair. Her faint breath was barely audible but thankfully, Rayne wasn't focused on anything but her and felt every ounce of her emotions blaring forward.

"I'm supposed to protect you," she meekly stated. "Why did you save –"

"What are you saying?!"

Narula trembled upon the dire words of the paladin. A surprising tinge of anger blared before his deep blue eyes. He couldn't believe what the night elf was about to say and he'd be damned if he allowed her to finish.

"Did you really think I would just watch you – "

The paladin stopped himself from completely that sentence. His growing anger had taken hold of his reasoning. Never before did he ever imagine confronting Narula in such a vile manner. It wasn't too long ago that the tables were turned. If this was how she felt when confronting him in Ulduar, then it just added another twist inside the paladin's knotted stomach.

"I'm sorry Narula," he said coarsely and with little remorse behind each word. "But if you even entertained for a moment that I wouldn't go after you then perhaps we have both misinterpreted the meaning and history of our relationship!"

Rayne clenched his fists tightly in a vain attempt to quell his rampant thoughts. His mind raced back to that fateful afternoon in Ulduar where he first spoke the words his heart had been clamoring to say for years.

"Sometimes I wish I never confessed my feelings," he continued. "It has been tearing me up for weeks. We've been acting so awkwardly with one another that… That I curse myself for ever putting you in such a difficult position."

All of the anger in his heart began to soothe. The paladin relaxed his hands and was able to look upon Narula with a renewed sense of adulation and hope.

"However, not a second goes by that I don't regret that decision."

Rayne's eyes slowly shifted away. He couldn't look upon the night elf for what he was about to say next.

"I've been battling my emotions ever since," the paladin stated. "Conflicted between your sentiments and my heart's desire to overcome them. I had even placated the thought of attempting to leave them all behind. The last thing I ever want to do is bring distress into your life. If my feelings would even cause an inkling of harm, I would bury them below the deepest depths of Azeroth never to be seen again."

He took a deep breath and thought of what transpired over the last few weeks. Every moment that Narula wasn't in his thoughts, his heart desired her to be. It was as if Rayne were fighting against himself in a battle he was never going to win. It seems foolish thinking back upon it now but only after going through such a drastic ordeal did the paladin find the wisdom to overcome it.

"I tried Narula," he confessed, almost finding enough humor in the situation to laugh at it. "I really did. But no matter how well my efforts went to satiate the void in my heart, I could think of no other that could fill it better than you."

Rayne's eyes returned once more to the night elf's shuddering form. He leaned in close, peering through the veil of her hair and addressing her directly with the entire weight of his unbridled emotions.

"So please," he begged. "Don't you ever dare say something so sad to me again. It doesn't matter if you don't share my feelings and I don't care if I have to jump off one or infinite ships until the end of time because…"

The paladin's heart quaked. It begged for release. He was prepared to say whatever was necessary to quell the rumblings. The words began to flow effortlessly from his lips and he couldn't wait to expunge this darkness clouding his heart once and for all.

"No matter what happens," Rayne boldly admitted. "I'll never stop loving you Narula."

An eerie air of silence wafted over them. The paladin had professed his feelings once more to his beloved. However, this time he didn't not let anxiety or fear clutch at his chest. He was not awaiting a response or even a reaction. Rayne spoke clearly from his heart and conveyed the weight of his love without faltering. For the first time in his life, he did not fear his emotions. The paladin embraced them.

The night elf's head snapped up. Her gleaming silver eyes were now filled with tears. They fell from the corners and rushed down the sides of her lavender skin. Her expression cracked. The beautiful visage the Rayne had come to know and love now trembled with sadness. Narula's body fell forward and spilled atop of him. Her arms trembled, wrapping around his shoulder and waist as she buried her head into his chest and sobbed uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry!" She meekly confessed. The timid apology continued to pour through her thin lips with increased haste. Each and every word squeaked through her humbled tongue. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore."

Narula's entire body quivered. The paladin's mind froze in a desperate attempt to piece together just what was going on. Before he could even formulate a thought, the night elf shattered his world with a bold revelation of her own.

"I love you too Raymond," she softly spoke. "I've loved you for as long as I can remember."

Rayne's heart tightened. His body was flush with a wave of emotions that were too incredible for words to describe. Every inch of his skin began to dance in delight. Blood raced from the length of his veins countless times over. The paladin sat in awe at Narula's confession. He desperately tried to close his gaping jaw but his body refused to obey any of his commands and instead, just listened as the night elf continued.

"For years I was hoping to convey these feelings to you," she admitted. "Finally, the day before you were to being your training as a paladin, I promised myself I would tell you everything."

A dagger pecked at Rayne's chest. That was a day that would live in infamy. It was the first time he had ever experienced such a tremendous sadness.

"You were going away for so long, I feared…" The night elf wept. "I feared that I could lose you to someone else. I couldn't bear that thought so I wanted to at least share my feelings before you left."

Tears continued to stream down her face. The paladin's chestplate was becoming stained with her sorrow.

"But," she weakly began. The words stumbled through her throat, tripping over themselves and muttering incoherently as Narula attempted to continue. "But your father… Your father knew of my intentions. And he begged me not to go through with it."

The paladin's mind snapped. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. All of his life, Lord Templar had been nothing but kind, wise, and gracious with Rayne. There was no way this could be true and yet, he could find no fault with her words.

"He told me that you needed to become strong. Strong enough to protect the people of Azeroth as you had intended," cried Narula. "And that sharing my love would only make you weaker. That if you were ever bound to one person, you could never protect any others with the same passion and dedication."

A drop of anger pooled in the paladin's heart. His father had always gone above and beyond the call of duty in order to give Rayne everything he wanted. However, given their history together, this type of act was something that Lord Templar was not only certainly capable of, it made complete and total sense.

"Finally, he offered me a bit of advice," she stammered fighting through the tears. "He said that if I wanted to stay by your side that I had to become strong as well, strong enough to protect you. Strong enough to endure the burdens you would soon face and become a worthy ally."

It was all starting to come together. The reason why Narula left so abruptly and sought training in the druidic ways despite never mentioning a desire to prior slammed into the paladin's chest with unrelenting guilt.

"So that is what I did," she painfully admitted. "I bore the harsh training, the isolation, and the torment of enduring the strict craft in order to be worthy stand next to you. And the only reason I was able to make it through was the thought of finally being able to stand next to you once more."

All of his brewing rage had been quelled by those simple words. Rayne never noticed the pain in her eyes each and every time they were together. The night elf had nothing to prove to him and yet, she sacrificed so much that he couldn't feel anything but shame over just how blind he had been.

"When you finally confessed your feelings to me," Narula happily began. Her voice cracked as countless tears streamed down the sides of her face. "My heart was so full, I thought it was going to burst."

The paladin's nerves tingled. After experiencing such a horrific rejection, all of that agony he suffered simply washed away as it became clear that it was simple a ruse.

"You made me so happy and yet," the night elf hesitated. Her emotions would not yield as she frantically attempted to continue. "And yet, I was afraid. Afraid to accept your feelings because I feared the words of your father. The last thing I ever wanted was to bring you harm so I…"

Narula's resilience waned. She attempted push through the painful memory but couldn't find the strength within her to defy it.

"So I…"

The night elf squeezed him tighter. She continued to shiver as the words finally forced their way through.

"So I couldn't accept them," whimpered Narula. "And I couldn't accept you. I was so scared of the thought of losing you that I didn't even fathom you would find your way to another…"

Lightning snapped within the Rayne's thoughts. He knew just were the night elf was going with this and silently begged her not to go on.

"And now," the night elf painfully sobbed. "When I heard of Zariyana's intentions…"

The memories of the last few days the paladin had spent with her flooded his thoughts. Every moment became as clear as day as Narula forced herself to continue.

"My chest became so tight, I could no longer breathe."

Rayne never felt more guilty in his entire life. While he witnessed the events in one light, the paladin had no clue how they were being perceived by others. He embarrassingly let it continue not knowing the pain he had been causing to the one with the biggest place in his heart.

"I then feared that the only reason your father rejected me was because I was an orphan and not a noble like her," she agonizingly admitted. "So after our campaign in Northrend ended. He would… He would…"

The night elf couldn't bear to finish that thought. It was the one thing she didn't want to admit out loud and yet, was the only thought continually filling her mind for the last several days.

"That is why I asked you to assist me with the Cenarian Circle's request," the night elf stated through tear soaked eyes. "I was afraid that after this was all over, I would never see you again. This may be my last chance to spend any more time with you and I… I didn't want it to end."

Narula let out a gut-wrenching cry. She screamed so loudly that the walls of the cave trembled. The night elf suffered more in the last several weeks while still maintaining her elegant composure, more so than Rayne had ever endured in a lifetime and she had finally reached her own breaking point.

"I was selfish!" The night elf wailed. "And now I've put you in even more danger…"

The night elf flung herself off Rayne's chest. She looked upon him with anger filing her expression and incredible sorrow buried through her silver eyes.

"Can you still let me stand by your side after I have lied to you this entire time?!"

A flood of tears streamed down the sides of her face.

"Can you still say that you love me after I willingly broke your heart?!"

Narula's resolved weakened. She was begging for an answer and pushed forward with as much strength as she could muster.

"Can you –"

The night elf's words were silenced as Rayne's lips fell atop hers. His hand graciously cupped her chin. Millions of sparks cried out in immeasurable pleasure as they kissed. The paladin's body melted, quivering with sheer joy upon finally experiencing that which his heart had desired for an eternity.

After a few blissful moments, Rayne carefully broke their embrace. Leaving her still trembling lips was one of the most difficult challenges of his life. He wanted to properly convey how he felt not just with words, but with the actions his heart had been wanting to convey all along. Narula stared up at him in bewilderment. The tears in her eyes had slowly started to fade.

"Narula," the paladin softly called. "I –"

The night elf wrapped her slender hands around his neck and brought their lips together once more. Electricity ignited in his nerves. Their tongues melded, dancing in ecstasy together within the confines of their furious passion. She pulled him in tightly, pressing her lush chest against his as they shared another tender embrace.

A calm tranquility quickly settled in. The agony of the outside world had disappeared altogether. Nothing else mattered outside this moment. He wanted to bathe in this feeling for as long as possible. Responsibilities and duty were just words to him now. The only two that he cared about at this point were simply Narula Dawngrove.

The clanging of metal snapped away at the paladin's attention. He forced his eyes open and painfully pulled away from the night elf's delicate lips. Rayne surveyed the room for the source of the sound fearing that the undead had found their way here. Thankfully, there was no immediate threat in the area but out of the corner of his eye he noticed the straps of his spaulders had been loosened and fell from his shoulders behind him.

"Na-Narula?!"

The night elf stared upon him with endearing eyes before averting her gaze. She coyly bit her lip and stared at the ground between them.

"I'm not foolish Raymond," she softly said. "I know the dangers that await us in the citadel. As strong as we are together, there's no telling what we could face in there so…"

Narula carefully reached for the leather gauntlet wrapped around her hand and removed it exposing the gracious lavender skin underneath. She began taking off the second as her eyes fell upon the paladin's once more.

"After everything we've been through," she somberly began. "After all of the time we have spent apart."

The night elf placed her hands behind her back and started releasing the clasps of her leather tunic.

"I don't wish to ever waste another moment with you."

Rayne was in awe of what he was witnessing. He couldn't believe how quickly his luck had changed in just a few blissful moments. After hearing Narula's bold confession, sharing their mutual feelings, and watching her undress before him; the paladin couldn't doff his armor fast enough.


	14. Chapter 13

_Deathbringer's Rise_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

The bulky titansteel-forged hammer sliced through the frozen air with a maddening velocity. Marcus' heroic shout echoed into the empty grey sky as he let loose a ferocious swing. The Knights watched in awe as he entered the fray without a moment's hesitation and confronted their chilling adversary head on.

The warrior's eyes widened as steel crunched violently together. His hands began to tremble and reverberate. Painful ticks of lightning trickled up his fingers and through his forearms before stopping at the center of his chest where a dark black pit started to grow. His attack had been completely stopped outright. The mace pressed harmlessly against the resistance of Dranosh's axe as the undead orc look upon him with a malevolent snicker.

A gout of sheer agony quaked on the platform. The death knight rocked Marcus' unarmored jaw with a powerful punch. Bones cracked as his fist continued its brutal path. Dranosh's spiked black gauntlet easily tore through the warrior's flesh sending streaks of blood cascading away in a sinister arc.

Marcus careened over the stairs and crashed upon the ground in a slumped heap. His shoulder crunched against the hardened teal platform as the ongoing pain began to envelop him. This unfamiliar feeling began sweeping over his consciousness. His brimming rage was quelled nearly instantaneously. He sought to test might of this death knight and was summarily reminded that they were on two completely different levels. That did not sit well with the warrior in the slightest.

As the haze through his vision began to clear, a flicker of renewed fury slowly began to rise. Marcus painfully pushed himself off the ground and sensed another wave of dread washing over him as his ally Ademski rushed to enter the fray. He had no idea what he was in for, however, by the looks in his eyes, that was the very last thing on his mind.

Light exploded from the top of the rise. The draenei's blade came bolting downwards in a heap of benevolent vengeance. His powerful lungs roared as he slammed the weapon atop the death knight's axe. The sheer look of unwavering determination in his eyes was rivaled by no one. Ademski continued to test the undead orc's strength with the might of his holy power aiding his plight as the two stood together with crackling golden energy whipping all around them in a heated stalemate.

"Pathetic…" Hissed Dranosh.

The draenei's expression broke for the briefest of moments which gave his adversary the opportune moment to strike. Sparks wheezed as the orc sliced his axe upwards and flung Ademski's blade away with relative easy. With the draenei's sword flailing harmlessly upward, Dranosh drove the end of the weapon into his abdomen. A hideous cough spat from Ademski's throat which was immediately silenced by a menacing backhand slamming against his unprotected jaw and spinning him towards the adjacent wall.

Dranosh followed up his assault by swinging his axe in a frontal arc. The blade's edge sliced into the draenei's back tearing through his armor as if it were made of parchment and rending a deadly gash upon his flesh that quickly began to stain with blood.

Unrelenting agony tore through Ademski's mind as he barreled forward. The nerves in his back screamed in torment. They weren't even given a moment to rest before igniting up once more. His forced trip to the outer wall of the citadel was immediately expedited as the death knight unleashed a powerful kick square into the draenei's spine.

Saronite cracked unforgivingly. Ademski's head slammed into the wall. His vision blurred as he tumbled slowly to the ground and fell upon his knees. The light slowly dissipated over his body. As the Knight known to be the strongest in pure muscular abilities amongst the rest of them, the draenei's crushing defeat in his initial onslaught was devastating to their now waning morale.

The death knight loomed over Ademski. He slowly raised his axe on high and prepared to deliver the final blow.

"You are noth –"

Fire ignited in the orc's face. Dranosh let out a bellowing cry of defiance as he reeled back a single step and clutched his newly singed face. His anger brimmed attempting to quell the new and looming pain. Through the cracks between his fingers, the orc locked his fearsome blue eyes upon the mage that wreaked this new havoc upon him.

Cayden's hand remained extended outward as another gout of flame channeled within his palm. The first spell was only a mere distraction. It would take some time to conjure up a more powerful attack but in order to save his ally, it was all he could muster.

Dranosh roared once more and prepared to charge his fiery garbed opponent head on. The mage's expression dimmed. Fear swept into his eyes as the orc lunged forward and prepared to charge.

Metal snapped violently in a torrent of bleak eruptions. Saelena's rifle rained town countless shots into the orc's black armor stopping his charge dead in its tracks and forced the Lich King's deadly minion to raise his defenses. She stood over her husband, guarding him with stance planted and unloading her entire chamber of bullets. The orc's armor was thick and he protected his unhelmed face well. A single piercing strike there would be sure to end this encounter outright.

The hunter tapped her knee against Ademski's sullen frame. He let out a painful grunt, tightened the grip on his blade, and made his slow ascent back to his feet. Saelena did everything she could to ensure her husband made it back up safely. As much as she wanted to kill Dranosh right here and now for causing her beloved harm, she knew that she was nothing more than a mere distraction against the death knight's immense strength.

When the Ademski was finally able to stand, Saelena gave the motion to fall back. The barrel of her now rifle plumed with smoke. She needed time to reload just as he desperately needed time to recuperate. Dranosh was not about to them that chance either. As soon as the firing stopped, he lowered his guard and prepared to pounce on the two draenei with a maddening fury. However, Saelena knew better than to try something so rash without a backup plan in mind. Even though she kept her eyes locked on the hideous black frame of the death knight, she occasionally snuck a glance in the mage's direction waiting for the opportunity to disengage.

Another deadly ball of flame exploded against Dranosh's chest. His plate greaves skid along the saronite surface leaving two black trails in their wake. The death knight stood mere inches from the door he guarded. Cayden unleashed his channeled blast when the orc's defenses had dropped. The fight may have started off grimly but at the very least, this battle has reached an impasse even if for only a brief moment.

Anger swelled through the orc's face. He extended his palms outward and pointed them towards the ground. Blood spilled through the cracks of his plate gauntlets. They quickly pooled into a pair of heaping blobs nearly three feet in height. Bubbles brewed within their globular hides and flecked off trailers of their amoeboid forms along the descending stairs.

"Feast, my minions!"

The crimson beasts did as they were commanded and gave chase to the outlying hunter and mage. No more than a couple dozen yards separated them from the death knight's spawned creatures but the distance was closing quickly.

Cayden and Saelena made haste towards opposing sides of the platform. The creatures were slogging along the path slowly and leaving trails of their bloody mass behind them. Within the palm of his hand, the mage desperately channeled a quick bolt of frozen energy. He hurled the icy dagger at the gooey red blob. The spell exploded on impact and slowed the beast slightly. It jiggled in defiance and seemingly absorbed the damage almost entirely causing Cayden to raise a worrisome eyebrow.

"Saelena!"

Cayden darted his eyes over in her direction. The hunter had successfully reloaded her rifle and was furiously pumping bullet after bullet into the crimson beast. Unfortunately, her efforts were also in vain. While the summoned creature reeled against every shot, none of them appeared to do any meaningful impact which caused a spark to flicker immediately within the mage's mind.

"Don't waste time trying to destroy them!" He commanded. "It may be futile to continue but perhaps we can at least stop them in their tracks!"

Cayden snapped his fingers and unleashed a wave of icy mist. The chilling arcane energy wrapped around the edge of the bloody blob and finally ceased its movements altogether. That gave the mage the flicker of hope needed as he sprinted towards the edge of the platform from where they first disembarked from the Skybreaker. He motioned for Saelena to follow suit as she carefully guided the beast following her while laying down an assortment of snares and traps to slow it down along the way.

A torrent of blue arcane energy swelled around the mage. He began channeling a tremendous wave of icy mist. Cayden was preparing to entomb these beasts in a frozen prison but he needed to concentrate in order to do it properly. Hopefully, the hunter would not have any issues handling two of these menacing blobs at once in order to give him the time to do so.

Marcus pushed himself back to his feet and let the burning rush of adrenaline swell through his veins once more. Its furious and yet soothing touch calmed the ache in his jaw and allowed him a moment to survey the battlefield. Samuel and Zariyana were still urgently trying to free Muradin and his guards from the clutches of the death knight's vile grip. They channeled continually bursts of radiant light throughout the center of the platform hoping to sunder the menacing violet energy. From the looks of it, they were barely making a dent.

Along the top of the rise was a sight the warrior thought he'd never see. It was odd that Dranosh had not engaged anyone else since unleashing his minions against Cayden and Saelena but that's simple because he was locked in combat with the smallest member of the Templar Knights.

Wicked black blurs trailed along the top of the steps. The rogue frantically flung himself from side to side, slashing his daggers against the death knight's armor. Bursts of orange light sparked as each tiny blade made contact against the hardened metal hide. Dranosh weathered every blow and appeared unfazed by the relentless assault. However, try as he might, the orc was no match for Weasel's sheer speed. This may have been nothing more than a meek disturbance but it was still enough to keep him from harming anyone else.

The death knight raised his axe and slammed it into the ground. Saronite crumbled underneath its edge. Dranosh quickly lifted the weapon from the ground as chunks of teal rock puked from the newly formed crater. He slashed it wildly to the side hoping to catch the gnome in the midst of another dash. Once again, his attack completely missed its mark cutting nothing but cold air. Strength may have been on the orc's side but luck certainly was not.

"Enough!" The death knight spat.

He released a hand from the axe and summoned whips of black energy within his palm. Dranosh thrust his nightmare-infused gauntlet forward. A stream of black mist launched from within the center. The gnome shrieked as it instantly enveloped his throat and stopped his attacks in the blink of an eye. He floated above the orc nearly a foot above him caught in the clutches of his grip much like the dwarf before him. Air urgently sought to fill Weasel's lungs once more but could not find its way through the death knight's crushing vice.

"Your soul will find no redemption here gnome!" Taunted Dranosh.

A smile slowly worked its way to the orc's thick lips when suddenly, his face crunched against the devastating weight of an unsuspecting mace. The death knight released a horrific grunt as he reeled backwards and planted himself against the door. His grip on the gnome faded as Weasel slipped through the confines of the black energy and landing back on the platform upon his own two feet once more.

Marcus stood over the gnome with the titansteel-forged weapon held tightly within his beefy grip. He gave everything he had into that single blow and it did nothing more than push the orc back a couple of feet. If they were going to make it out of this alive, they weren't going to do so matching blow for blow. Matching the orc's strength was out of the question but maybe a battle of wits will put them on an even playing field and throw their opponent off base.

"Your fight is with me asshole," the warrior spat. "We're just getting started!"

"Aye as well comrade," the draenei added taking his place next to Marcus. "If that is all that you have, I'm afraid you'll have to do much better than that to stop us."

"Hey!" Weasel frantically shouted through labored coughs. "I thought we were supposed to kill this guy?! Not make him madder!"

The orc shook the cobwebs from his head and pushed himself off the door. His black gauntlet rose and wiped the freshly dripping blood from the corner of his mouth. The citadel shook against the dreadful roar of the death knight as he launched himself forward with his axe ready to explode.

Instincts immediately took over. Marcus didn't expect someone so bulky to move with such blinding speed. He barely had enough time to lift his mace in defense from the death knight's axe caught up with him. Steel crunched as the weapons met each other once more. The warrior cried in defiance. He was launched off the top rise and sent barreling towards the ground. His skull cracked against the sarorinte structure sending a sea of red washing over his vision. Marcus rolled backwards and laid upon his face. The brutal throbbing of his head sent his nerves into overdrive. He could no longer command his body to do anything which only served as kindling to his renewed rage.

Ademski lined up a beautiful slash destined for the orc's midsection. The blade caught the edge of Dranosh's breastplate as he swayed. Light snapped from the edges once more. The draenei shouted as he poured more of the benevolent golden power through his strike. It may have not connected fully but at the very least, it could serve to push his opponent back and off balance. Sadly, this orc was too keen for such a simple trick.

Metal cracked together once more. Ademski had just enough forthright to keep his weapon in a guarded position as the orc's axe lashed out. Their weapons whined with an infuriating screech. Unlike his human ally, the draenei was at least able to somewhat match Dranosh' strength with some much-needed blessings from the light on his side as well. Ademski was not about to let the death knight focus on anyone other than him; especially since his gnomish ally had worked so hard to sneak behind and set up a flanking position.

The orc cried out once more and pushed forward. His incredible strength was too much for even the light infused champion to stand against. The draenei stumbled back and continued to keep his blade up as Weasel leapt behind Dranosh with a pair of glistening daggers pointed downward and straight at the orc's throat.

The gnome's eyes glistened underneath the radiant purple glow of his engineering goggles. He was so obsessed with the pair of thick throbbing veins protruding from the orc's skin he didn't even think to protect himself from the black gauntlet heading his way.

Both daggers bounced harmlessly off the death knight's spaulder. Weasel bellowed in unrelenting agony. His face was rocked by a tremendous backhand unleashed by the cunning orc. Bones trembled underneath its incredible power. The gnome was flung violently backwards. His head cracked against the door as he slowly flopped down. With consciousness slipping from his grip, Weasel fought to stay awake. A streak of blood spat from his lips as he coughed. At the very least he was at least his mouth was still working. The orc must not have hit Weasel with everything he had. If Dranosh had connected fully, it would have turned Weasel's jaw into powder.

Ademseki pressed his blade forward and caught the approaching death knight once more. They were deadlocked at the top of the rise. Their weapons clashed together, neither one of them willing to give up another inch of ground. Saelena and Cayden were still busy with those bloody minions to assist and the twin priests were in no position to help either. The draenei was all that stood between them and Dranosh's merciless strength. His duty was clear and he promised himself not to falter. Unfortunately for him, some things were not in his control.

The death knight swung his greave outward and smashed it against Ademski's leg. An agonizing shout erupted from his lips. The grip on his sword waned as the draenei dropped to his knee. Dranosh seized the opportunity and swung his axe forward in a sweeping motion. Thankfully, Ademski still had enough wherewithal and control of his body to move and catch the strike in the shoulder instead of its intended target of his neck.

The gleaming silver spaulder spun wildly into the air as it was sliced clean off. Returning to his feet, the draenei counted his blessings that his armor sacrificed itself against the deadly blow. Ademski shifted his stance and lifted his blade upward hoping to drive it down as the orc was still in the midst of his swing. That left his chest exposed and unguarded. It was just the opportunity Dranosh needed as he launched his armored boot forward once more and cracked the draenei's sternum with a revolting crunch.

Air was violently evicted from Ademski's lungs. He collapsed backwards, falling flat upon his back at the bottom of the stairs. The two-handed blade slipped from his hands and rested harmlessly off to the side. Try as he might, the draenei's strength escaped him. His body was more concerned with driving oxygen back inside that attempting to stand and continue this fight.

Dranosh loomed over the fallen paladin's body. All of his assailants had been summarily handled with relative ease. This joke of an intrusion would be an unfitting end to the battle-tested mythos of the Templar Knights. As the orc raised his axe to deliver the crushing blow, the corner of his vision beckoned him to belay as one of his opponents was proving to have difficulty understanding how powerless they truly were.

From the center of the platform, Marcus let out a tremendous shout. The air trembled as the warrior leapt forward, clearing the distance between them in the span of a breath and launched his mace downward. Their weapons clashed once more. Marcus' hands no longer trembled. Rage had consumed him entirely. He could not see anything passed the reverberant red fury surrounding him. The two combatants traded blows at the top of the rise. Each strike was more menacing than one prior. Neither of them catered to form. They were out for blood even at the cost of their own.

The orc' axe swept downward, cutting through Marcus' legguards with relative ease and rending a gash nearly two inches deep. He couldn't even bask in the moment before his arm lit up in a tornado of pain as the warrior's mace smashed him cleanly along the bicep. Not wanting to be out done, the death knight spun along the direction of the previous blow, carrying his weapon along the complete turn and slashing Marcus' unarmored abdomen with voracious strength.

A line of blood sliced through the chilling air. Had the maddening cut been a hair deeper, the warrior's organs would have spilt upon the saronite-forged surface. However, Marcus was driving on nothing other than unbridled fury and the attack didn't even register.

The warrior flung his mace up and cracked Dranosh's exposed jaw. A flicker of light painted through the red madness. The orc stumbled back. His grip on the axe lightened. Elation slowly trickled into Marcus' heart. He was finally able to cut through the death knight's stubborn resilience and land an unforgettable shot. The tides of the battle slowly started to turn in their favor.

Clouds started to form along the corners of Marcus' vision. The overwhelming sticky sensation along his skin confirmed what he had begun to dread. He had lost more blood than he originally calculated. Dranosh was a fierce combatant and an unremarkable opponent. In his overwhelming feat of rage, the warrior had let himself go for far too long. He completely underestimated the death knight's fighting prowess and was now paying dearly for it as Marcus' mace suddenly became heavier and heavier with every passing breath.

Dranosh spat in defiance once more. Not even the new patches of blood running under his chin swayed his mood or vigor. He rushed forward, carrying the sinister axe over his shoulder and drove it down atop the warrior. Marcus snapped and desperately flung his mace upward to catch the weapon's edge. While he still maintained the speed, his strength was depleting rapidly and could no longer be counted on to stand against the orc's might.

The warrior's throat burned as a horrific shout exited his lungs. Blood spewed across his chest and painted all over the side of his face and chin. The axe dug into the flesh between his neck and shoulder. He continued to howl in agonizing defiance as Dranosh tugged his weapon and released him from its menacing embrace with a resounding kick to the chest. He descended backwards much like his draenei companion moments prior and landed several feet away flat upon his back.

Lifeless steel echoed calmly into the air. The titansteel-forged weapon Marcus coveted tumbled down the stairs and rolled towards him. It bounced off his greave and rolled away from him pathetically. The warrior choked in as much air as he could. That was the only thing his body was concerned with at this moment. The swelling anguish residing over him was only going to get worse. His body was ready to quit. All of the redness before his vision had vanished and replaced with caked over blood along his skin, armor, and the path once traveled.

Marcus lifted his head off the ground. There was no one left to stand against the death knight now. Ademski was seemingly out of commission and if Weasel was even still alive, there was no way he'd be able to fair much better than the warrior. While his heart was busy pumping vital fluids where they need to go, it also trembled as he caught wind of Dranosh turning his attention to the twin priests who were nowhere near capable of standing against his strength.

"Wait."

The death knight's attention was drawn towards the meek voice calling out to him. Marcus painfully pulled himself off the ground. He reached for the nearby mace and once it was within his quivering grip, used it as a crutch to push himself to a standing position. His body was nearly entirely stained in crimson from head to toe. No one, not even the Knights themselves would have recognized him had they not bore witness to this battle personally.

"I'm not done yet."

Try as he might, the warrior was not stating that in jest. Though death was slowly calling out to him, his mind refused to give up. There was no way he was going to lay down and accept its dark embrace while his friends needed him. As the orc's attention slowly diverted towards him, Marcus couldn't stop a small smile from forming along the corner of his lips. For the first time in his life, the warrior was not allowing his rage to control the flow of battle. His mind was soothed and emotions as tranquil as a moonlit lake. His smile grew wider. He couldn't help it seeing as this is exactly what that dumb blonde kid would be feeling if he were standing here right now.

* * *

 _The Vile Hold_

 _Icecrown_

Rayne locked his legguards into the tightened the clasp of his waistplate. His skin was still dripping with sweat despite the freezing cave they resided in. He wanted to continue to drink in this memory for eternity. It was a moment far beyond his wildest dreams or desires. However, they both knew what lied ahead. After soaking in their passion for what seemed like ages, it was time to return to the call of duty.

As the paladin reached down to collect his gauntlet, he couldn't help but sneak another glance at Narula. Her naked body was comfortably wrapped within the confines of the deployed parachute. A slender lavender leg peaked through the cloth almost calling out to him once more to continue. It took nearly all the resolve in his heart to turn around and return to the entrance.

The gauntlet was quickly affixed over Rayne's arm. He stood at the opening as the biting wind clawed at his exposed upper half. The paladin took a flare from the pouch sitting on his belt and loaded it into the hand-mounted pyro-launcher. He pointed it towards the sky and with a single flick of his wrist, unleashed the rocket. It hissed upwards, trailing plumes of black smoke before igniting in a massive green orb hundreds of feet into the air. That should be more than enough to signal the Skybreaker or any other Alliance vessel to their location. Now they just had to get dressed and hope that no other threatening parties find them first, be it Horde or undead.

Warm air trickled wafted over him as the paladin returned inside the cave. The night elf stood up with her back towards him. He couldn't take his eyes off her lush form until the parachute they were using as a blanket slipped off her lavender skin and exposed her silken flesh to him once more. Before the sheet even hit the ground, Rayne instinctively turned away and focused all of his attention on his armor that sat in a scattered pile all across the cave.

The paladin carefully gathered the rest of his precious pieces of plate. Upon closer examination, there were quite a few large dents and scratches along the back of his chestplate. The fall down the mountain must have been more arduous than he remembered. His mind was so caught up on saving Narula that pain became secondary. Even now, his body was enamored with this newfound and incredibly satisfying sensation that it was as if he were floating on a cloud. If this amorous feeling is what awaited him in the future, he couldn't wait for their mission to be over and dive headfirst straight back in.

With all of the remaining pieces of his armor collected, Rayne made his way back to the center of the cave. His eyes were still glued to the ground not knowing if the night elf had finished dressing. Unable to control himself further, the paladin snuck another glance at her direction. Much to his delight, Narula's purple lavender armor was wrapped upon her skin once more. She was affixing the clasps and tightening the straps as the paladin continued to stare though a part of him had wished he looked up a few moments sooner.

Rayne followed suit and picked up his chestplate. He brushed the straps aside and prepared to slip it over his head when a sudden gentle voice called out to him.

"Allow me to help you, my love."

The paladin's skin jolted with a sweet tingle of vibrant electricity. He couldn't tell if it was the delicious manor in which the night elf spoke or the fact that she had referred to him as something other than _Raymond_ that made his heart skip a beat. Rayne took a big gulp and nodded in acknowledgement. If he tried to speak, he feared his words would come pouring out in a childish stutter.

Narula took the armor into her slender hands and slowly began loosening the straps. The paladin was still swimming in delight from moments prior that he couldn't event turn to face her less she bears witness to a blushing fool.

"May I ask you something?" She politely began while continuing to adjust the leather straps within her fingers.

"A-anything!" The paladin instinctively answered hoping not to sound too idiotic.

"Why did you suddenly turn around when I stood up a few moments ago?"

He was busted. Though Rayne thought he pulled off that move with the slickness of their gnomish companion, it appears the night elf was much more cunning that he realized.

"I –," he stuttered. "Well, you see…"

The words he needed to swim out of this situation never reached him and the more the paladin struggled, the more he continued to sink.

"Are you ashamed?" Narula grimly posed. "Ashamed of what –"

Before she could even finish, Rayne turned around almost immediately and faced the night elf directly.

"Absolutely not!"

The paladin grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her in closely as the chestplate slipped from her hands and fell to the side. He hoped the utter compassion in his eyes asserted that he was telling the absolute truth.

"I would never be ashamed!" He continued. "I love what happened. And I –"

The delicate silver eyes peering up at him forced him to stop once more. In only a matter of moments, he quelled the sickening thoughts from continuing.

"It's just that, I – ," stammered Rayne as he continued to search for the right way to express himself without sounding completely immature and still retaining some semblance of composure. "I didn't want to stare –"

"You don't have to be shy any longer," she interrupted with a bright smiled.

Her hands reached up and wrapped around the back of his neck.

"I don't want you ever looking away from me."

Rayne instinctively turned away hoping to mask the swelling redness blossoming in his face. He couldn't believe this was happening. A few moments ago he was mourning the near death of the one he loved more than anything in the world and now the paladin was wrapped in her loving arms after finally sharing a moment of blissful passion together. It was almost too good to be true.

"They need not wander any longer."

She leaned in closer. Her sweet lips were mere inches from Rayne's cheek.

"Did you honestly believe I was aloof to what you were up to?" She snidely asked as her expression dimmed "Or did you think I hadn't known of your stolen glances at others in Dalaran?"

The paladin's heart froze. He was completely paralyzed and couldn't move if he foolishly wanted to. She just admitted a deadly truth that Rayne was still fighting to process. Though he knew nothing ever escalated past friendship with the several females he had become acquainted with in that majestic city, the guilt of not telling her about it was more painful than he originally anticipated.

Narula's slender finger reach up and tapped his chin. With a single flick, she directed Rayne's gaze back upon her once more. His eyes were steeled with a tinge of sorrow.

"I mean it Raymond," the night elf pouted. "Your eyes are never to leave mine again."

The way her lips pursed as the words came pouring out caused the paladin's heart to nearly thump out of his chest. Narula leaned in even closer. Her warm breath tickled his face.

"Promise me?" She begged just above a whisper.

The night elf's eyes slowly closed. Rayne couldn't contain himself any longer. His body was demanding he give in as he leaned in forward to meet her awaiting lips once more.

A rush of footsteps echoed nearby. The paladin instinctively pulled his attention away despite all other emotions telling him not to and stared at the entrance of the cave. A humanoid shadow was looming towards them. Rayne instinctively clutched the night elf together and pulled her in close fearing for the worst.

A footman drabbed in silver armor and branding a blue and gold tabard peered inside with his shaggy brown hair flowing nearly over his eyes. Elation filled his expression as he stepped into the cave for a closer look.

"Sir!" The soldier graciously called. "I think I've found –"

His words were silenced upon witnessing the curious scene playing out before him. Time must have slipped past faster than the paladin anticipated.

"Commander Templar!" He stuttered. "Sir! Forgive my intrusion. I'll give you a few moments to – uh – finish up."

Before the paladin could offer a single word in his defense, the footman rushed out of the cave and stood ever vigilant, if not slightly embarrassed, outside.

Rayne turned his attention back towards the night elf. His forehead fell atop hers and he couldn't help but laugh over what had transpired. Rumors of the incident would surely run rampant amongst the shoulders but at this point, the paladin cared for nothing else that the magnificent creature held in his arms.

"Perhaps we should finish up?" Narula somberly stated.

"Perhaps we should," sighed Rayne.

As much as he wanted to throw her back down atop the blanket and continue where they left off, they had far more important matters to attend to. Their dearest friends and allies would be very surprised to hear the news of their safety amongst other things. Fortunately, those specific other things could wait. They still had a mission to complete and while their blissful moment shared in Icecrown would be finite, they had all the time in the world to continue this thereafter.


	15. Chapter 14

_Deathbringer's Rise_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

The nerves underneath the warrior's skin were calmed. Adrenaline coursed through his bloodstream numbing the overwhelming agony of every laceration across his body. Marcus took careful and labored breaths. Every puff of air exited with a soft grunt. He had fought in countless battles, seen every facet of the brutal nature of war, and confronted some of the toughest opponents Azeroth had to offer. Standing before him now was his greatest challenge yet.

Leather squeaked as the warrior tightened his grip on the titansteel-forged mace. Dranosh stood confidently at the top of the short rise brandishing that damned axe that was ready to cut through the rest of his companions should he fall right here and now. The warrior was not about to let that happen. For years he has fought for one simple reason: because he believed it was the right thing to do. He was prepared to give his life in each and every battle if it would help their cause. Death was just a part of war. Marcus lived by that prevailing thought for his entire life. While he would have been have succumbed to death's embrace on this day, he knew he couldn't die just yet.

The warrior took a step forward. He was careful not to waste any unnecessary energy as he would need everything left in order to pull off one final grand stand. The orc haphazardly brought his axe forward ready to engage Marcus one last time. He wasn't taking the warrior seriously it would seem. Perhaps he was in worse shape than he thought. Marcus didn't dare look down to examine himself. That would have been a waste.

From the outlying area near the door, the warrior spotted movement coming from Weasel. If that cheeky gnome was still alive then this would prove to be to their great advantage, especially if the orc hadn't caught wind of it yet. Over at the bottom of the steps, the draenei's fingers twitched as he reached for the two-handed greatsword just a few short inches away from his fallen body. If he could count on Ademski and Weasel, then this crazy plan just might work.

Marcus stopped only ten short yards away from the death knight. Dranosh was fierce but still retained a sound battle-mind to him. Despite seeing the battered and bloody body before him, he did not let his guard down.

The bold words the warrior spoke before this fight first started played back in his mind. Looking back, he was so foolish; not simply what he said before engaging the orc but rather, throughout every battle he has ever fought. Marcus has relied on a sharp tongue and a heavy weapon to help him get through every situation. However, this time he had no words left to offer. He was tired and dirty. There was no need to say anything anymore. His actions would do the talking from now on.

Dust rifled off the warrior's greaves as he kicked off the ground. He leapt high into the air. Not a single audible breath escaped his lungs. Gone were the ferocious shouts and horrific battle cries. Marcus put everything he had into this final volley and didn't want to let his last stand be remembered in such a barbaric manor.

The warrior sailed into the air. Dranosh lifted his axe to meet him. Much to the death knight's surprise, Marcus completely passed over head. The orc quickly turned and pressed his weapon forward. His eyes never left the warrior's body for a second.

Plate greaves dug into the hardened saronite door. The warrior landed nearly six feet off the ground. His knees pressed into his chest and immediately kicked off the citadel's entrance. With his mace firmly gripped between his mighty fingers, Marcus launched himself towards the orc. His body twisted maniacally in the air like a rage induced tornado. The weapon cycled in the ferocious circle, spinning madly along the path as it drove towards Dranosh.

The death knight held his stance firm and tilted his weapon in a guarded position. He couldn't see anything past the violent wind barreling forward. The warrior had melded himself into an unfathomable mixture of part man and part disaster. Trying to parry the attack outright would be madness. His eyes were fixated on the constant revolutions of the mace in order to prepare himself and he didn't dare look away.

A violent howl erupted outside of the fortress. Dranosh let out an agonizing shout as his nerves exploded behind his legs. His combat senses had betrayed him. While he was distracted by the spinning warrior rapidly approaching, Weasel had snuck behind him and slid a pair of stiletto daggers between the plates of his legguards and severed all of the tendons in his knees in one clean swipe.

The orc reeled back. His grip on the axe loosened as the human tornado reached him. Metal crunched with devastating ferocity. The death knight wheezed with a gargantuan grunt. His breastplate had been near shattered. A massive dent the size of a ram's skull had been implanted into his armor. His body tried to voice the sheer torment ripping through him but all of the air within him had been instantly expelled in a single withering blow.

Grey skies filled Dranosh's vision. He fell backwards off the platform. The orc's legs no longer contained the strength to keep him planted atop the rise any longer. Dranosh succumbed to gravity's unforgiving grip. He flew over the stairs hoping that the ground was more merciful than the mace had been. Unfortunately for this fallen warrior, it was not the only thing that awaited his descent.

A gleaming silver blade pierced though the death knight's chest. It protruded over two feet in length drenched in the orc's blood. He was skewered along the length of the draenei's mighty sword. Dranosh's arms and legs hung lifelessly in the air.

"I… Am…" Dranosh painfully gasped. "Released."

Ademski dropped his blade to the side. The orc toppled over and landed with a hefty thud. Heavy breaths panted out of the draenei's chest. He slowly stood up and planted his foot along the death knight's back while carefully releasing his blade from Dranosh's slumped carcass.

The blackened vile energy holding Muradin and his soldiers in place dissipated. Their bodies crashed to the ground, forcing them to a knee as they landed gasping desperately for air.

"That was," coughed Muradin. "Saurfang's boy – the Horde commander at the Wrath Gate."

"So it would seem," the male Legend twin calmly replied.

"You should take it easy," Zariyana added. "Allow me to assist you."

The priest's hands began to glow with a soft radiant light. She carefully placed them across Muradin's chest and aided in soothing his ailments.

"Thank you lass," he graciously replied. "I'll be alright now."

The dwarf stood up. His fellow soldiers followed suit as they examined the fallen body of the orcish death knight. Muradin took a deep breath and let out a long sigh.

"Such a tragic end..."

Their attention was immediately diverted as the winds in the distance called out behind them. Rising from the edge of the platform, the Horde zeppelin known as Ogrim's Hammer came into view. The battered ship still contained the scars of their previous battled but appeared to be repaired just enough to return to the skies. All of its menacing starboard side guns slowly came into view.

"Soldiers, fall in!" The dwarf commanded. "Looks like the Horde are comin' to take another shot!"

"Cowards," snarled Samuel. The slight tinge anger quickly passed as he adjusted his glasses and carefully set them in the proper position atop his face. "But a brilliant strategy nonetheless."

"If they think we're going to go down quietly," his sister growled while channeling a pair of golden orbs of radiant energy in her palms, "they are more foolish than I originally gave them credit for."

The Legends twins stood sternly alongside Muradin and the rest of the Alliance soldiers. Cayden quickly rushed to join them. His hands ignited into a small torrent of flame as he readied his stance and prepared to face the Horde troops once more.

"If this is how we are to die my friends," Ademski grunted as he slumped towards the others. "Then at least we will die knowing the mission has been completed."

Saelena brushed off his morbid words and stood by her husband. She stared down the scope of her rifle and watched the Zepplin's engines calm down to a gentle hum. The ship docked at the base of the rise. All of the Horde troops stood at the ready. Stairs descended from the deck of the ship. The Horde's commander and High Overlord Varok Saurfang quickly made his way down the stairs.

"Don't force me hand, orc," Muradin boldly stated. He felt confident standing by his troops and with the rest of the Templar Knights at his side. The High Overlord approached them solely and without hesitation which forced the dwarf to grip his warhammers even tighter. "We can't let ye pass."

"Behind you lies the body of my only son," Saurfang declared. His tone was tough but slightly relaxed almost as if he were attempting to parlay in his own crude way. However, in order to prove his seriousness in the matter, he finished his statement much more sternly. "Nothing will keep me from him."

"I... I can't do it."

Muradin dejectedly shook his head. After their previous battle and near death experience, the dwarf's orders were more clear now than ever before. This was supposed to be a mutual effort between the Horde and Alliance. They were supposed to come together against a common foe but even with the Lord of the Scourge looming just beyond that door, their history of squabbles got the best of them. Muradin was not one to quickly forgive and forget as he pointed a hammer forward at the orc's head in a threatening manner.

"Get back on yer ship and we'll spare yer life."

Saurfang snarled as his hand slowly glided over the hilt of his axe. The Alliance solders tensed up and prepared to engage the very moment this orc showed the first sign of physical hostility.

A blue wave of energy cut into the air behind them. The mystical lights sliced into the atmosphere, slowly opening until a gateway was revealed to a place beyond. Details of the background were hazy, however, a pair of figures quickly stepped through the portal and revealed themselves to everyone atop the platform. The first was a battle-hardened warrior decked out in majestic grey and gold plate armor. His long brown hair sat comfortable next to a pair of lavish spaulders depicting fierce lion and cunning eagle respectively. Next to him, a young woman in glistening white and purple robes trimmed with gold. She pulled back her violet hood to reveal a long streak of radiant blonde hair.

"King Varian?!" Gasped the mage. "And Lady Jaina. What are you –"

"Stand down, Muradin." Commanded the King of Stormwind. "Let a grieving father pass."

Everyone stood in awe. No one spoke a single word of defiance. The dwarf took the orders to heart and lowered his weapons. They slowly parted, creating a direct path for Saurfang to the corpse of the fallen death knight. His steps were powerfully yet solemn. No one else dared to say a word as the High Overlord knelt down and cradled the body of his son.

"No'ku kil zil'nok ha tar."

Saurfang rose carefully carrying the death knight in his muscular arms. He walked through the Alliance soldiers and Templar Knights once more. Surprisingly, the orc did not make his way towards his ship and instead, veered off to stand before the King of Stormwind himself.

"I will not forget this... kindness," the High Overlord spoke. "I thank you, Highness."

Varian nodded and offered his condolences.

"I... I was not at the Wrath Gate, but the soldiers who survived told me much of what happened," he replied. "Your son fought with honor. He died a hero's death. He deserves a hero's burial."

The orc gave a single nod and carried his son back aboard Orgrim's Hammer. As he ascended the steps, a single tear fell from the cheek of the Lady of Theramore. She wiped it away with a gentle slide of her finger but more soon followed. The King of Stormwind turned as she continued to whimper.

"Jaina?" Varian curiously began. "Why are you crying?"

"It was nothing, your majesty," she sniffed while regaining a proper composure. "Just... I'm proud of my king."

The King of Stormwind rolled his eyes and pulled himself away less these muddling emotions seek to drag him down alongside his companion.

"Bah!" He scoffed while shifting his attention towards the dwarf. "Muradin, secure the deck and prepare our soldiers for an assault on the upper citadel. I'll send out another regiment from Stormwind."

"Right away, yer majesty!" Answered the dwarf. "The Skybreaker's still searching for Templar and his companion but hopefully they'll be back here -"

"Wait," Varian called. "Did something happen Commander Templar?"

"Has he gone missing?" Jaina added with growing concern.

Muradin balked at answering it directly. He gave an insecure smirk to the priest beside him and decided to instead deferred to the divine wisdom and judgement of the Templar Knights.

Samuel was at a loss. He wanted to answer the King of Stormwind directly as he was entitled to. However, a nagging sensation in the back of his head did not allow him to proceed as logic dictated. Zariyana stepped forward and gave her brother a calm and knowing nod. The male Legend twin knew exactly what she was thinking and while these words were best spoken by their dauntless leader, he was pretty sure the paladin would have done the exact same in his position.

"It's," he began.

"A long story," she finished.

The King of Stormwind stared blankly at the Templar Knights for the briefest of moments before releasing a short sigh.

"As to be expected," he replied with trace of laughter on the tip of his tongue. "How about the rest of you? Are you faring well?"

The rest of the Knights acknowledged Varian and ensured him everything was fine. However, a quick account of the members in the direct vicinity found that two of their biggest mouths were eerily silent as well as absent from the entire ordeal.

Marcus slumped against the nearby wall. He continued to paint the surrounding saronite structure with his crimson fluid as he slowly slid to the ground. The titansteel-forged mace slipped from his grasp and landed with a resounding thud. He sat down with his back resting against the bloody structure and released a deep and powerful breath.

"Whew," the warrior happily sighed. "I'm finished."

"I'll say," Weasel replied as he continued to dust himself off. The gnome examined his chin thoroughly. A bulging blue bruise nagged at his nerves but given the situation, it was more welcome than the alternative. "You should see the other guy though. Talk about finished. Bastard didn't even see –"

"No Weasel," panted Marcus. "I mean, I'm _finished_."

The gnome slowly raised an eyebrow. Before he could ponder those words any further, an overwhelming rush dread washed over the small assassin. The warrior was covered head to toe in his own blood with multiple lacerations continuing to drip his precious fluids all along the rise. By all accounts, he should have died ten minutes ago.

Throughout his entire life, Marcus had always wondered, when death finally caught up to him, would he die for a worthy cause? He quickly looked back at each of the hard battles fought that brought him to this moment and felt content. Rayne had given him an opportunity no other war or conflict could have ever hoped to achieve, a _purpose_. On the battlefield, he would just be another nameless grunt. With the Templar Knights, he was so much more. As the blood continued to ooze from his grievous wounds, he finally realized just what he was missing all this years, mindlessly searching from brawl to brawl and what he would soon miss.

"You're not serious?" Weasel asked forcing a smile upon his trembling lips. "This is a joke, right?"

"Fraid so cog-breath," coughed Marcus. His body convulsed with every word. Each of his breaths were tough and labored, slowly grinding down to a halt.

"Wait a second!" The gnome snapped. He rushed over to his companions sullen body and stood at his side not flinching once at the blood slowly staining his black leather armor. "Just hold on a minute! Zari and –"

"Remember that conversation we had back in Ulduar?"

Weasel stood aghast at what the warrior was referring to. The gnome was essentially just trying to make small talk before it turned into a whole big thing about death and the other side. Never in his wildest dreams that he thought Marcus of all people would still brood over something like that given the nature of their relationship.

"You were always faster than me," he snickered through a choking cough. "Looks like I've finally beaten you in a race."

"Stop it," flinched Weasel. "Just stop saying anything. This is not –"

"Take care of that kid for me, will ya?" Marcus painfully added. "He'll probably be depressed as all hell after this. So it'll be your job to cheer him up."

"Hey!" The gnome barked. "Don't say that so casually!"

Weasel grabbed the warrior's shoulders, stared him right in the eyes, and shook him frantically.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

"What are you talking about?" Laughed Marcus. "Everything's black now. I haven't seen shit since I've sat down."

The gnome released his grip. His hands trembled in fear. Weasel has watched hundreds of people die before his very own eyes. This was the first time he actually felt some semblance of remorse over it.

"Damnit!" He sniveled. "You bald asshole! You still owe me heaps of gold from our bet remember?!"

Weasel grabbed him once more and angrily shook him.

"If you think this gets you out of your debt, you've got another thing coming!"

The warrior's face became blurry. An unfamiliar feeling trickled along his eyes and shortly made their way down the sides of his haggard face.

"I swear I'll dig up it up if I have to and collect everything you owe me for years on end!" Weasel sniveled. "If you don't want me desecrating your grave, you better- "

The gnome immediately went silent. Marcus' labored breaths had finally ceased. He leaned in closer to confirm and sharply pulled away while wincing when he got the answer he wasn't ready to hear.

As the rest of the Templar Knights rushed to Weasel's side, they too bore witness to the tragic scene. Marcus Bloodblade laid in a bloody heap next to the entrance of Icecrown Citadel and finally embraced the clawing darkness with a smile on his face.


	16. Chapter 15

_Ogrim's Hammer_

 _Icecrown_

"Captain!" Saurfang called. "Return us to Light's Hammer at once!"

"As you command High Overlord!"

Lorelei stood underneath the deck of the ship as the engines roared. They would soon be leaving this despicable place but without confirmation of the elf's or even Templar's fate didn't sit right in her stomach.

The young elf quickly blitzed passed the goblin workers and grabbed an emergency length of rope and grappling hook. This was normally used for boarding other vessels or, at the very least, to stop one's descent down the length of a mountain after a collision. Either way, this was just the tool Lorelei needed. She raced towards the open windows where the ship's cannons sat and launched herself atop the blackened metal tube and leapt outward towards the hulking saronite structure.

Goblins barked some gibberish about protocol as she quickly exited the airship. Whatever their deal was proved to be of little concern to the young elf. She launched the grappling hook forward at the oncoming ice-filled wall. The steel prongs latched themselves to a fortified embrasure just underneath the docking platform. Her fingers burned as her grip tightened along the strand of rope as she descended. It immediately went taught and slammed Lorelei's thin body against the fortress. She winced in defiance but didn't allow another audible breath to exit her nostrils.

Ogrim's hammer roared as it pushed away from the citadel's platform. The young elf hung nearly twenty feet below, still dangling along the rope with the frigid cold saronite walls clamoring at her armored flesh. She began her slow ascent. Every movement was methodical and quiet. She couldn't dare risk alerting everyone above to her position. The Alliance dogs were probably still fuming over the Horde's failed attack. If they caught her wearing this gaudy cloth banner over her chest, it would just be another thorn in her overall plans. She would have to do something to remedy that but first, she needed to find a safe place to hide.

Lorelei reached a point where she could finally hear some voices just above. She carefully planted her foot along the sharped ridges of the fortress and braced herself into as much of a comfortable position as she could muster. The young elf was easily able to hold herself aloft with a single hand. She reached for the tabard sitting atop her shoulder and ripped it from her body. The red and black cloth brandishing the crest of the Warsong Offensive descended to the icy depths below and within seconds, completely vanished from sight.

A couple of voices chatted just above her. Lorelei took a deep breath and focused her senses on nothing more than the sounds yammering above. Not even the stammering clod winds clawing at her cheeks pulled her attention away.

"And make this our new forward base of operations from here on out," a commanding voice stated.

"Aye yer majesty," a gruff voice replied.

The young elf listened quietly. She timed her breaths carefully to ensure she didn't miss a single word of the conversation above.

"Where can we expect soldiers from the Argent Crusade to arrive?" The first one asked.

"One of me soldiers spotted the Skybreaker en route to our position now," the gruff voice answered. "After we debrief them about the Templar situation, it'll only take a few moments to unload our supplies and get this area established like ye asked."

Lorelei's heart rumbled. Hearing that name again sent shivers of rage coursing through her veins. It took everything she had to quell the trembling sensation in her hands and potentially give away her hiding place. Still, the thought of not knowing his fate or that of the wretched elf he cherished did not sit well in her conscious. If the returning Alliance vessel had news about the damn paladin, then the young would be more than happy to wait her for as long as it took to quell the fire of curiosity burning within her.

The rest of the conversation between them became seemingly drowned out by another group in the distance. They appeared to be arguing over something. Lorelei couldn't quite put her finger on it but it only grew to fuel her irritation. Whatever nonsense they were babbling on about continued without reservations and stifled the young elf's attempts to learn any new information.

* * *

 _Deathbringer's Rise_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

"Let's go."

The male Legend twin quickly gathered himself and his belongs as walked towards the open door leading into the citadel.

"Samuel, wait!" His sister pleaded.

Zariyana immediately rose from the kneeling position near the body of Marcus Bloodblade and gave chase to her twin. She seized him by the arm and stopped her brother before he took the very first step inside the fortress and immediately looked upon his solemn gold eyes with a desperate glare.

"His body isn't even cold yet," the female priest begged. "How could anyone be so heartless? Even for you, this –"

"This has nothing to do with my heart, Zariyana," countered Samuel. He tapped the frames of his glasses and affixed them back in their proper position after being jolted from the sudden encounter with his sister as he morbidly continued. "Now let me go."

The sudden change in tone forced the female Legend twin to release her grasp almost immediately. However, her stance on the matter had not changed and she was still desperate for answers.

"I don't understand," she somberly admitted. "Why are you behaving this way after –"

"Because, my sister," the male priest interrupted. "It is the most practical solution."

"Practical?!" Zariyana snapped. "How dare you even mention that at a time like this? Can you for one moment forgo that ego of yours and –"

"Zariyana's right," Cayden added. Even with his historically documented quick temper, listening to him as a voice of reason was both unfamiliar and yet surprisingly welcomed. "Besides, we have no idea what happened to Rayne and Narula. We can't just abandon them until we –"

"Exactly!" The female legend twin excitedly cut in. Her voice nearly cracked in agreement with the mage. "We should be searching for them! Or at least waiting here until –"

"By the Titans, I've never seen you so emotional," sighed Samuel. The way he looked at his sister with a melancholic appeared as if he was dumbfounded that she still didn't get it. "That is exactly what we are going to do."

Zariyana pulled back. She was speechless and the look on her face told him she was still greatly confused as to what he was planning because his words certainly did not match the actions expected.

The male Legend twin took a deep breath. He delicately stared upon the somber gold eyes of his twin and chose his next statement with the utmost care and precision.

"We still have one last task to complete before our mission is over," Samuel began. "I intend for us to enter the citadel, find the dragon that is being held captive, and free her as promised."

He sighed heavily, letting the weight of his words fall unhindered upon his sister as well as the rest of the Templar Knights.

"Once that has been completed," he commented. "We will be free from our sworn duties and then, we may begin our search for Rayne and Narula's whereabouts."

The explanation was concise and to the point. Samuel wasted no more breaths than were absolutely necessary to convey his thoughts. And yet, despite hearing all that, it still did not seem to fully resonate with everyone; one dissenting voice in particular.

"That doesn't make sense," she frantically shaking her head. "Why would we even consider continuing without –"

"It's what Rayne would do if he were here, wouldn't he?"

Zariyana stood aghast. She had finally realized what her brother was trying to do. All of this time, the burden of leadership had been placed upon the paladin's shoulders. Each and every decision Rayne made was seldom criticized and always accepted because that's who he was. They expected that from their leader. Now, someone else amongst them was attempting to fill that role and shouldering the responsibility when they needed it the most. It was grossly unfamiliar coming from Samuel but the moment she pictured the words coming from the paladin's lips, the female Legends twin knew she would have never challenged him. The fact that her brother was even questioning himself for the first time in as long as she could remember was enough to convince her to follow his gracious lead.

No one else offered any other words of dissent. Samuel was taking the steps necessary in order to achieve their collective and ultimate goal. The male Legend twin turned and cast his vision upon the gnome slumped over in the corner. He was turned away, unable to look at the corpse of their fallen comrade with his tiny hands furiously scrubbing away at his face.

"Weasel," the male priest called. "We'll need you to scout ahead and assess any potential threats awaiting us. This area has not yet been explored and I'd rather not wait for the Argent Crusade's scouts to arrive as time is not on our side."

"That bastard," the gnome sniveled as a pair of Alliance footmen walked up and carefully cradled the body of their fallen comrade. They carried him back towards the center of the platform where he would be taken to lay amongst the other fallen of this expedition. Death, even one of noble sacrifice, was never as pretty as told in tales and legends. Weasel nodded in acknowledgement and continued muttering under his breath as he approached the door. "Just wait until I get my hands on him. Making me feel _feelings_ again. He better not be dead. Not until I've gotten a piece of him."

The gnome walked through the entrance. He passed without hesitation. Thick columns of blue energy shot from just beyond the doors masking everything behind it a veil of cold mist including the gnome himself.

"Weasel!" Called the mage.

Cayden ran forward for a closer examination. His pace was immediately stopped by Samuel's outstretched arm.

"What are you –?!"

"Wait," calmly ordered the male Legend twin.

"Wait?!" The mage protested. "But Weasel could be –"

After a few moments, the mists subsided revealing the pathway once more. A large column appeared at the end, splitting the walkway into two directions. Standing before it, Weasel continued his approach throwing a thumbs up to everyone in the back and signaling he was fine.

"I knew there would be nothing to worry about," Samuel stated. "Weasel is more than adept to be caught blind-sighted by a trap such as this."

The priest took off his glasses and carefully wiped the newly formed condensation from the lenses before placing back atop his face.

"Besides, I'm fairly certain we would have never heard the end of it if he wound up injured in any regard after following my simple order."

"I'm fine too, thanks for asking!" The gnome barked as he made his way through, taking the left fork and disappearing from the collective views of the other Knights.

"They appear to work on an interval system," Samuel commented. He carefully approached the walls in which the mists originated from and peered into the circular slits slightly protruding from the saronite-forged surface. The male Legend twin took short, timed breaths as he extended his hand outward, reaching for the opening. His sister was baffled at the sheer audacity he was display and frantically called out to him as another burst of cold energy emerged.

"Samuel!"

The priest pulled back half a second before the mists erupted once more. He slowly brought his gloved hand towards his face and examined the icy crystals forming along the finely tailored threads.

"Are you mad?!" Zariyana protested. "What has gotten into you? Why are you –"

"I was merely testing a hypothesis," he boldly spoke. "The timing interface seems to be mathematically calculated instead of triggered via action. That would make the construction of this device of engineering origin rather than arcane."

Samuel shot a casual glance towards the mage.

"Wouldn't you agree?"

"Y – yes!" Cayden replied, flustered over what he just witnessed while attempting to maintain his composure to answer the priest properly. "I mean, that is correct. Any magically laden trap would have some traces of energy left over after activation, be it runes or even a scent of components used to channel the spell. There's no trace of magical residue here."

"I know what you're thinking Samuel," his sister protested. "Even if we knew the exact timing, there's no way we can count on everyone else to get across especially in our current condition."

"I'm not suggesting that at all," the male Legend twin countered. "I initially noticed the device triggering then that brute of an orc first appeared. That is why I've sent the only one amongst us with engineering experience to further investigate."

Zariyana sulked where she stood.

"Why didn't you just say that to begin with and spare us all of this cryptic meddling of your personal insights?"

"I thought that was implied?" He shrugged.

"It wasn't clear to – hey wait!" The mage snapped. "Does that mean if it _was_ arcane in nature you would have sent _me_ out to investigate?!"

"Absolutely."

Samuel didn't even flinch when responding. The fact that Cayden shouldn't have expected anything less made it more difficult to swallow.

"Speaking of which," the male Legend twin added while turning his attention towards the two draenei behind him. "How are you feeling Ademski? Your armor looks particularly out of sorts. Are you still able to continue?"

"I've had worse," the draenei sluggishly answered. "This is nothing. Now, try sleeping on the ground in Shadowmoon Valley during vanguard expedition. I would argue that the maw of a nether drake would be softer to lay upon."

"Yes, well," sighed Samuel as he hoped for a more direct answer but was seemingly thankful for what he received. "What about that wound on your back?

"May I?" Zariyana politely asked.

Saelena nodded with a short smile and allowed the female priest room to work. Zariyana stepped in and carefully examined the slash where the death knight's axe first drew blood.

"It's long but thankfully not deep. This appears to have only rended the outer flesh," she concluded while channeling a cloud of divine energy in her palm. The female Legend twin hovered her hand over the wound and carefully moved it from side to side. Her eyes radiated a powerful golden light as she worked. In just a few moments, the gash across Ademski's back had disappeared entirely. The only trace of its existence remained in the damaged armor from which it first struck.

"All done," she replied with a smile. The light in her eyes faded revealing the gentle golden irises within. "It shouldn't bother you any longer."

"Thank you, young one," the draenei smiled. "I, how should I say this? I shall now be, _rooting_ for you. Is that how it is said?"

"What are you talking –"

Before the female Legend twin could finish that thought, Saelena jammed her elbow into her husband's rib cage. Ademski cringed in pain as she stared upon him with a worried and scornful gaze.

"Ow Saelena," he whined. "What was that for?"

Upon looking into her eyes, he found the cause of her distress and immediately attempted to rationalize it for confirmation.

"Oh," he sulked. "So I should have not said anything, yes?"

The hunter hit him in the same manner once more. He knew better to speak up after a second scolding and remained silent after wincing at the newly formed and nagging pain.

Samuel sighed and casually shook his head. He didn't even want to placate their bickering any further with an official response, even one made in jest. Before he could dismiss the emotions entirely, a resounding click echoed in the pathway beyond the doors. The male Legend twin peered down the hall and counted. Not a single fleck of mist appeared for well beyond the timed settings. At the very least, someone managed to do their job without causing a scene.

"Let's go," he ordered.

The finely tailored white and black robes of the male priest flowed majestically as he walked through the entrance. Everyone else followed a short distance behind. A chill washed over him. The sullen air of the citadel was thick and unforgiving. It was as if this fortress were trying to freeze him down to his very soul itself. If his robes were any thinner, Samuel would be hard pressed to continue let alone engage in any sort of combat. The male Legend twin kept that thought at the forefront of his mind as he began running through encounter scenarios and strategies. One could not be too unprepared after all.

After passing through the fork, the Knights winded through the column and arrived at the dreaded spire of evil itself. The center of the fortress was vast. A long circular platform winded around the massive room lined with skulls and bones of vanquished victims atop the saronite-forged structure. Dozens of scourge minions, geists, and abominations lurked throughout the area which forced everyone to take caution. They were still a fair distance away and even dealing with one pack would be manageable but attempting to handle them all at once could prove to be fatal.

Entrances on the north, east, and west ends leading to new facets of the citadel. Four bridges connected each path to the center. A massive spire made entirely out of ice rose from the bottom from which they previously entered through a misty cloud of frozen air the very top, disappearing from view entirely. Ornate doors carved out of grey steel led into the spire directly. A crown of saronite hung just above and mimicked the helm of the demonic king who resided within.

"So this is Icecrown Citadel?" Samuel pondered. He carefully examined every in of the structure within view and made note of the unique architecture and symbolism. "The legends do not do it justice."

In some ways, it was an honor to be standing here in this historical location. There are not many places on Azeroth that are as revered and feared as this menacing fortress. In others, Samuel hoped to be leave this sinister place behind as quickly as possible less the unrelenting chill be ingrained in his bones for the rest of his life.

Cayden met with the priest and they both simultaneously walked towards the edge of the platform. At first, they looked up and admired the height of the structure once more before looking down at the depths between the path and gargantuan frozen column in the center.

"It appears this area is approximately halfway between the ground floor and the top of the spire," commented Samuel.

With no stairs leading up anywhere, there was only one logical conclusion to make given the current evidence presented.

"That means that path must lead to the Frozen Throne," added Cayden.

The dreaded seat of the Lich King was one tainted in malevolence. It can be seen with the naked eye from nearly every peak in the whole of Northrend and yet, the Leader of the Scourge himself has yet to ever be spotted atop it; not that anyone would have dared to get close enough anyways to confirm either.

"Do you think?" The mage carefully began. "Do you think he knows we're in here?"

"Given the circumstances," answered the male Legend twin. "I'd say it's an almost certainty."

"And the rest of the whole damn castle is going to know we're in here too if you two keep blabbing on like that!"

"Weasel?"

From underneath the walkway, the tiny rogue shimmied his way up and joined the rest of the Templar Knights. He casually dusted himself off his black leather armor after finding some ancient dirt and debris from beneath the untrekked citadel.

"So that's where you've been?" Samuel curiously pondered. "What on Azeroth were you doing under there?"

"Hiding."

Weasel's dismissive shrug caused the priest to raise an eyebrow. The threat of the scourge may be looming all around them but the most nearby minion was well over one hundred yards away. If they haven't come for them now while gathering en masse, there should theoretically be nothing to worry about.

"And what pray tell are you hiding from exactly?" The priest questioned.

The gnome casually pointed over Samuel's shoulder.

"Her."

"What?"

The male Legend twin sensed the wind shifting behind him. He instinctively ducked and rolled to the side as the other Knights scattered. As Samuel quickly gathered his bearings, he spotted the site of the gnome's disturbance.

A massive winged creature swooped down upon them. Their gleaming white and blue forms were covered in various pieces of armor despite being mostly incorporeal. A pair of radiant wings sprouted from their backs and rapidly flapped throughout their flight to keep them airborne.

"A val'kyr?!"

Samuel snapped his attention towards the winged creature. Val'kyr were agents of the Lich King and a main driving force behind his near limitless army. They serve to judge fallen vrykrul warriors and determine their purpose when joining the forces of the Scourge either as a wretched vargul spending an eternity of undeath as a decaying hunk of flesh or a mighty Ymirjar, some of the deadliest combatants under the Lich King's control. Some val'kyr are even so keen as to kill living creatures themselves just to add more bodies to their bolstering head count. It would seem this particular vixen was opportunistic enough hoping to do so with one of their very own.

"Get offa me!" The gnome whined. "Let me go you crusty white hag!"

Dread washed over the male Legend twin. He rose from his knees at watched the val'kyr carrying off their comrade passed the platform and near the immense drop hundreds of feet below.

"We've got to get him out of there!" Pleaded Cayden while conjuring an immense ball of flame between his palms. "I'll –"

"Belay that!" Ordered Samuel.

The rest of the Knights looked at the priest for guidance. His mind raced through countless scenarios. The most logical one that continually found its way to the surface was also the least humane. If they allowed the val'kyr to drop him, he would be sure to die and soon serve the Lich King as one of his minions. They could try to distract her and hope to catch the gnome before he fell into the depths of the cavern but no one amongst them had the tools nor relevant skills to pull off such a risky maneuver. The final option was the one that kept creeping up over and over again. If they killed Weasel along with the Val'kyr, there's a good chance they could spare him from that dreaded fate of eternal servitude.

Samuel stood aghast. He didn't know what solution to pick. His mind told him what needed to be done but for some reason, that pesky inkling in his chest did not allow him to speak the command. It was the best choice; the most logical choice and he wouldn't have bit his tongue if Rayne were the one making the ultimate decision. However, when all of the responsibility fell upon the priest's shoulders, he could do nothing but stare blankly and refuse to say anything.

"Samuel!" His sister shouted. "What are you doing?! We need to stop now!"

"I," the male Legend twin painfully began. "I don't –"

"She's going to kill him!" Cayden fired back once more. His rising anger only seemed to push the priest into a deeper hole of silence. "We have to act now!"

The nerves in Samuel's skin twitched feverishly. His body trembled with dreaded anticipation. The air in the priest's throat went dry. Every moment that passed without acting drew them closer and closer to acting upon instinct instead of the comfortable warmth of logic. If this is what the paladin felt each and every time he had to make a decision in the heat of the moment, Samuel had a new level of empathy and respect for their intrepid leader.

"Take this!" Weasel cried drilling his daggers into the side of the val'kyr's helm. "And this! You won't hear me beg you creepy winged bitch!"

The gnome's weapons bounced off her helm harmlessly. They were looming over the massive drop. Even with certain death staring him in the face, Weasel did not whine or complain. He continued to fight for every inch of life that he had left and wouldn't give the val'kyr or her precious master the satisfaction of watching him squirm.

As they finally reached the edge of the pathway, Zariyana appeared to find her own breaking point.

"SAMUEL!"

"I can't - !"

The val'kyr shrieked in horrific pain as a gleaming barrier of radiant energy cracked off her body. Her cries echoed into the chamber before dissipating slowly into the air along with the rest of her body. The glowing white and blue visage that once remained now faded into obscurity. Her armor spilled down into the dark depths below along with the cheeky rogue desperately shouting his discontent.

"I take it back!" He frantically shouted. "I don't want to die like –"

Weasel's pleas were immediately silenced. His body was clasped into the strong claws of a powerful storm crow. The bird glided over the icy drop before making a careful turn back towards the platform.

"What the?!" The gnome gasped. He turned to face his proverbial savior. Weasel's gaze never left the bird's piercing amber eyes as he still tried to rationalize the situation ."What's going on?"

All of the other Knights stood in awe as to what they had just witnessed. They watched as the storm crow carry him back and travel over their heads. The gnome's body hovered nearly twenty feet high before being released from the bird's talons. He flew with great rapidity before landing and being carefully cradled in the beefy grip of a familiar yet surprising face.

"You enjoy the trip tinker-brain?"

Weasel looked up at the tanned, bare-chested human cradling him. His expression immediately cracked.

"Marcus?!"

The warrior cradled his short companion with a single arm while the other was slung over the shoulders of another welcomed presence in shining silver armor. A moment later, the storm crow glided by before its body morphed, shedding its black feathers as arms and legs quickly sprouted into the confines of a set of purple leather armor. After seeing all three of them standing together in one place, the gnome immediately feared the worst.

"I'm dead. That bitch dropped me and I fell and no one was there to catch me and now I'm here with Rayne and Narula and Marcus and we're all de–!"

"Don't you ever shut up gasket lips?"

Marcus couldn't help but grin

"Rayne! Narula" The Knights shouted in unison.

They raced to meet them. Their pace came to an immediate halt upon casting their gaze at the former corpse being assisted by the paladin.

"That's not possible," Samuel gasped. "He was –"

Thundering footsteps echoed into the hallway. The armies of the Argent Crusade roared as they barreled through and entered the circular pathway. Rayne and the others quickly moved to the wall and allowed the soldiers to pass freely. The Argent Crusaders split into two groups and immediately charged the patrols of Scourge minions on walkways. Blades began furiously slicing through their undead flesh. Terrifying shouts of anguish began filling the halls. The sounds of battle nestled into the background as the fight between light and death raged on.

The warrior slowly pulled himself off of Rayne's gracious assistance and tried to put Weasel down. Surprisingly, the gnome was showing a bit more resistance and wasn't ready to leave his grip just yet.

"Alright," Marcus sighed. "You can let go now."

"Nope," he countered. "Still not sure if you're real or I'm dead yet."

Weasel bit down on the warrior's bicep. Marcus immediately and naturally shouted in pain.

"Yep, he's real."

The gnome violently bounced off the ground after a vicious slam.

"You're supposed to pinch _yourself_ you micro-minded moron!"

Weasel pushed himself off the ground and looked up at the warrior through the purple lenses of his engineering googles.

"I just," he started. "I wanted to make sure it was _you_. That's all."

"Ha!" He laughed. "You growing soft on me now?"

"Only my coin purse. Remember, I'm not leaving you alone until you finish paying me you chiseler!" The gnome countered. "Not even death will save you from your debt!"

"Marcus," the male Legend twin cut in. His curiosity was running rampant. There were so many questions to ask he didn't even know where to begin. "How did this –"

"What, too good for Chromedome anymore?" Marcus grinned. Before Samuel could even raise a word in his defense, the warrior continued while nodding over towards the two Knights standing beside him. "Look, I ain't about to question what happened but I know a miracle when I see one."

The paladin rested his hands atop his knees. Quick and labored breaths pumped in and out of his lungs. Despite only running a short distance to get here, Rayne felt utterly exhausted. A slender hand fell across his back and cradle him closely.

"Are you feeling alright?" Asked Narula.

"I'm fine," the paladin panted. "Just a little winded."

"Hey, are you calling me fat kid?" Marcus protested. "You'd think with all that blood I lost, I wouldn't be such a –"

"Enough!" Samuel shouted.

Everyone's gaze instantly fell atop the male Legend twin. The mood was so painfully normal for this group it was as if the last few moments never happened. Watching the night elf take an arrow to the chest and fall off of the ship only for Rayne to follow her immediately afterwards was one thing. Having to bear witness to Marcus' death, which was confirmed by both Samuel and Zariyana, nearly broke their morale entirely. The priest did his best to gather the pieces and continue on but seeing everyone carry on as if everything before was merely trivial proved to be madly irritating.

Rayne picked himself with some welcomed assistance from the night elf. He took a couple of careful paces until he stood before the priest. Samuel's growing frustration was quelled almost entirely upon staring into the paladin's deep blue eyes. He couldn't help but sulk after realizing how rude his behavior had been.

"Forgive me," spoke Samuel. "My tone was unbecoming and I should not have spoken so abruptly."

The priest's voice grew firm as he continued.

"I," he began before suddenly stopping himself. He looked around at the other Knights surrounding him. Their eyes spoke volumes as he returned his attention towards the paladin once more. " _We_ are desperately curious to know what happened."

A gentle gauntlet fell atop the priest's shoulders. He looked up and bore witness to Rayne's signature and blindingly bright smile.

"It's a long story."


	17. Chapter 16

_Deathbringer's Rise_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

A raging inferno brewed within the young elf's emotions. Her mind raced to find the cure to quell her growing anger. She peered over the edge of the rise as hundreds of Argent Crusade soldiers came pouring through the Alliance vessel, charging into the fortress chanting and screaming at the top of their lungs. Leading them into the Lich King's stronghold was none other than that damned paladin and his precious little Narula.

Lorelei couldn't believe what she had witnessed. She had scored a clean and direct hit right at the heart of that purple-skinned vixen and yet she somehow managed to survive. That damned elf was supposed to be dead and yet they pranced around the top of the platform as if nothing had happened. And then, the most grievous sin of them all was watching that lecherous human kneel over the body of a fallen comrade and seemingly bring him back from the brink of death without so much as flinching. Almost everyone that bore witness to it was amazed by the incredible show of lights and divine energy being channeled. However, the young elf was not as impressed as the others; it only proved to incite her temper even further.

If Templar had the power to cure such grievous wounds, then why did he let Jean die? He had proven right here that it was possible and yet, she was instead forced to bear witness to the paladin murdering her brother and letting his final breath pass atop his hideous arms. Lorelei was aggrieved to be reminded of those damned memories once more. She wanted to make Templar suffer beyond suffering. There was no way he was going to get off that easy. As long as she still had her bow, blade, and a bit more of that poison left, there was still a chance the young elf could get exactly what she was looking for.

Lorelei pulled herself up to the top of the platform. Soldiers continued to pour into the citadel while others were setting up tents, preparing tables, and going over strategies with their superiors. They didn't even seem to notice Lorelei's presence and even if it did, it's not like it would matter. By the looks of things, they were desperate for every man they could get. Faction allegiance didn't matter on this newly established base. Members of the Alliance and Horde worked in unison towards a common goal.

As more troops poured into the entrance, the young elf followed closely behind the back of the pack. They marched carefully but with a hastened pace. Lorelei clutched her bow and retrieved an arrow from the quiver slung across her back. When that bastard paladin was in view, she was not going to squander the chance to kill him once and for all.

* * *

 _The Spire_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

"The dwarf's hammer?" A puzzled Samuel asked. "I'm afraid I don't quite understand."

"Then at least we're in the same boat," laughed the paladin. He casually passed a glance towards the night elf and found difficulty hiding his smile. "I wasn't sure what happened either but when it aided me in healing Narula, there was no way I wasn't going to try and use it help Marcus." His mood and tone dimmed slightly as he finished. "Not after it had proven itself worthy prior."

"And I appreciate it kid," the warrior boasted. He grabbed Rayne by the head and pulled him into one of his classic headlocks. "I guess that makes us even for carrying your half-dead carcass back to Wintergarde."

"Are you really trying to compare _half_ -dead to _whole_ -dead?" Weasel groaned. "The math doesn't add up. And besides, when it comes to wit, everyone knows it's the other way around."

"Weasel!" Snapped Marcus as he released the paladin from his grip.

Rayne slowly pulled himself up with a couple of short coughs pouring through his mouth. He stood up firmly and took a moment to catch his waning breath. The warrior must have tugged on him harder than usual. He usually didn't feel this sore after being dragged into a headlock like that. Perhaps Marcus was just overjoyed to be alive. All things considering, he had every right to.

"You mentioned that weapon was forged from the remains of Arthas' hammer, Light's Vengeance, right?" Cayden inquired. "I don't believe there is much information documented about it but from what I can recall, it was a tool used to end lives, not save them."

The mage's devoted curiosity was running on all cylinders as he attempted to decipher the clues and reveal the secret to the weapon's ominous and incredible power.

"And Muradin did not enlighten you of the hammer's trait prior to you taking possession of it?" The male Legend twin pondered.

The paladin nonchalantly shook his head.

"I don't even believe _they_ know what they've forged. Muradin seemed just as surprised as everyone when I first took hold of it."

"Perhaps you should tread with caution Rayne," implored Cayden. "Weapons like that don't normally boast such remarkable abilities and without researching the extend of its capabilities, there may be a good chance of a potential mishap. If you'd like, I could do some research on in and assess its prowess further."

"As soon was we're done in here," smiled Rayne. "She's all yours."

"Rayne," the female Legend twin spoke. She approached him with a bit of caution. It appeared she was having difficulty finding the proper words to convey her feelings. "You had us all worried when you jumped off our ship. I'm glad you're both alright."

It was highly unlike Zariyana to be so timid with her emotions. Normally, she'd blurt out the first thought that came into her mind without any regards for the feelings or sentiments of her companions. Now it seemed like she was treading very carefully as if searching for the perfect thing to say instead of the most instinctual.

"Thanks Zari," the paladin smiled.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rayne caught a glimpse of the night elf leering at him with a bright expression. It didn't seem out of place given the newly calmed mood surrounding them but the paladin knew otherwise. His heart trembled instantly remembering the words she shared prior to them returning to the citadel. He may not have been able to see it before but hidden beneath those stunning silver eyes of hers was a passionate, yet intimidating glare. With everything that had transpired between him and the female priest, it was best to tread with the utmost caution. Rayne subtlety pulled himself away from the potentially damning situation and returned a bright and forgiving smile back at her.

There was an odd air circulating amongst the Knights. Rayne had informed them of what had transpired but omitted a few key details. Rumors would sure to be circulating amongst the soldiers that rescued them earlier but for now they should focus on their completing the task at hand and prepare themselves for the inevitable fight that was to come.

The war against the Lich King's minions raged on within Icecrown Citadel. Armies of the Argent Crusade continued to clash with the Scourge forces along the circular walkway. There was so much chaos going on, it was hard to determine where they should go from here. Three entrances led into different sections of the fortress at the north, east, and west areas. They could split up and investigate each one but that could prove to be disastrous given the dire battles taking place all over. They had spent too much time apart and separating once more was not an option Rayne wished to pursue. Thankfully, the Templar Knights had someone in their midst with the proper talents at their disposal to point them in the right direction.

"Narula," called the paladin. "Can you sense where the dragon may be held captive?"

The night elf nodded and proceeded towards the end of the southern walkway. She closed her eyes and held her graceful hand forward. Mists of silver light began to swell under her feet. The ambient natural energy swirled around Narula's body led by dozens of tiny wisps. They encircled her several times before venturing outward into the fortress. The summoned creatures raced through the outlying areas, passing harmlessly through the blistering combat taking place.

After a few moments, the silver lights beneath the night elf faded. Her eyes opened and her hand pointed towards the eastern edge of the pathway.

"There," Narula calmly replied. "I can feel her presence. However, it is very faint and weakening by the moment. I fear we may be running out of time."

The paladin lowered his engineering goggles over his eyes, removed his blade from its scabbard and stood beside her.

"Then let's get a move on!" He ordered. "Everyone, follow me!"

Rayne jogged down the open walkway with the rest of the Knights in tow. They each had their own weapons drawn and easily matched the paladin's pace. The forces of the Argent Crusade had already cleared much of the pathway. Decaying bits of severed and defeated minions lay strewn about the edges. Their rotting smell infused the paladin's nostrils and nearly made him gag. He and most other adventurers seeking their fortunes on Northrend had fortunately been accustomed to their foul stench.

"Ready your arms, my Argent Brothers," a voice shouted in the distance. "The vrykul will protect the Frost Queen with their lives."

The paladin searched for the source of that sound. His heart slowly started to drop upon finding a grey orc with diminishing white hair along the edges of his scalp and chin in hideous crimson plate armor featuring dull metal inlay trimmed on the edges. Several lengthy blades carved in the image of tusks jutted out from each spaulder. The menacing axe in his hand appeared to be part polearm as well with many spikes and daggers protruding from its edges. Glowing blue eyes were steeled and poised for battle as he commanded his troops through the eastern entrance. The death knight loomed near the steps ready to take charge.

Their collective pace slowed as they moved closer. Rayne took extra precaution not knowing if this particular orc was of the antagonistic or friendly variety. Standing beside him on the base of the stairs were a small squad of subordinates that helped alleviate the paladin's concerns. They were a mix of races from both the Horde an alliance wearing various sets of battle-worn armor. There was a human, dwarf, blood elf, and foresaken eagerly preparing to enter the fray along with the rest of the troops that had already begun the battle. The main trait they all shared was the glistening white tabard featuring the crest of the Argent Crusade within the center. While this did appear to calm Rayne's mood a bit, he was still cautious with their approach since maybe one of them could be holding a grudge from previous encounters despite all sharing a common goal.

"Even dying here beats spending another day collecting reagents for that madman, Finklestein," the blood elf casually remarked.

The orc immediately snarled in response. Before he could offer his own retort, his glowing eyes fell upon the approaching Templar Knights. A sense of elation filled his expression as he returned his attention towards the Argent Crusade subordinates and continued.

"Enough idle banter!" The orc snapped. "An officer has arrived - support them as we push our way through the hall!"

The men turned in unison to face Rayne and immediately saluted him. After everything that's happened, the paladin had completely forgotten he was given a high-ranking position amongst the Argent Crusade and even had the badge affixed to his breastplate to prove it. Rayne responded in kind offering his own personal salute. He wasn't exactly sure what the protocol to proceed was given that his current mission was technically over but thought it best to just be himself and see what he could get away with before having to resort to other means.

"Greetings," the paladin acknowledged. "I'm Rayne Templar."

"Commander Templar?" The orc grunted. At first he seemed annoyed but upon closer inspection, it was actually meant to convey some respect. "My name is Crok Scourgebane. You were leading the vanguard unit, yes?"

Rayne nodded.

"And yer all that's left?" The dwarf casually asked. "Just how bad was it? Surely there are more coming, right?"

There wasn't a response the paladin could offer to properly give his true sentiments on the matter. Instead, he opted for the simple and direct approach.

"It's just us," he answered while gearing up to change topics. "What's the situation here?"

The orc nodded as he began.

"Our scouts have reported sightings of the Sindragosa along the outskirts of the eastern portion of the citadel," Crok stated. "They have calculated that this path should lead directly to her nesting area where she and her spawn are currently patrolling. In order to secure safe access to the spire above and cut off one of the Lich King's most prominent allies, we must seek her out and end her miserable existence once and for all."

"Sindragosa?" The paladin posed. "Is this that Frost Queen you mentioned earlier?"

"Yes," he quickly answered. "She commands the Frostbrood, some of the most deadly frost wyrms we've encountered on this frozen hell-hole."

"She was also the former consort to Malygos if I recall," added Samuel.

"Correct," the mage continued nodding in agreement. "Though, the records indicate that was ages ago. Perhaps there was something about their relationship that made them prime targets for corruption."

Rayne had heard enough horror stories regarding the siege at the Eye of Eternity. The dragon aspect and former leader of the blue dragonflight had gone mad pledging to rid the world of all rogue magic users. Had it not been for the red dragonflight and the assistance of a group of brave heroes, he may have very well succeeded. Reminiscing aside, they needed to proceed with the demanding task awaiting them.

"Have your scouts reported the whereabouts of a green dragon within these halls?" Asked the paladin.

"Green dragon?" Crok raised an eyebrow. "We have seen nothing past these Ymirjar as of yet."

"Ymirjar?" The paladin inquired.

"They are amongst the strongest vrykrul warriors in the Lich King's army. Each of them had to withstand trails at Jutnheim before being called to serve," the orc warned. "They are the elite amongst elites."

Rayne remembered battling against the vrukrul at Utgarde. They were strong, tough, but most of all, deadly. These ones certainly lived up to their gracious introduction as the squad of Ymirjar continuing to battle were certainly intimidating.

"And they're the ones guarding our green dragon?"

Crok shrugged and readied his weapon.

"I do not know," he grunted. ""But as soon as we clear them out, you are more than welcome to search yourself Commander."

The paladin smiled.

"Then we will be happy to assist."

He looked over the other Argent Crusaders standing with the orc and gave them a once over. Crok was the only one not wearing a tabard bearing the mark of the Agrent Crusade but rather, the Knights of the Ebon blade.

"Are these your men as well?"

The orc nodded.

"These men were stationed on various outposts with Zul'drak maintaining strongholds for the Argent Crusade. They've volunteered to join me on this mission."

Crok motioned over to the elder human with dirty grey hair and a thick mustache clad in gold armor on the far left and began working his way down with introductions.

"This is Captain Brandon."

"Well met," the human spoke. "Glad to have you with us Commander."

"Thank you, Captain," the paladin graciously replied.

"Captain Grondel," the orc spoke directing his hand over the scruffy looking dwarf with a dark hair and thick plates of shining black armor.

"Hey there," Grondel nodded. "I'm hopin' yer as tough as the rumors have led me to believe."

"I as well," laughed Rayne.

"Captain Rupert," introduced Crok pointing towards the decaying Foresaken soldier outfitted in torn straps of black leather armor. His sickly white skin protruded out of the damaged boots and gauntlets but he looked as fit to fight as any of the others.

"Hello."

Rupert's echoing voice mimicked that of the orcish death knight. However, hearing the foresaken talk so casually rattled the paladin's nerves in a way he couldn't quite put his finger on. Rayne simply nodded and mustered up the best smile he could before proceeding to the final subordinate.

"And finally, Captain Arnath."

The paladin was especially concerned with this blood elf. He wore ornate cloth robes much similar in style and fashion to those of the twin priests. Spiked locks of platinum blonde hair reminded him of Cayden's favored style

"Bal'a dash," Arnath calmly stated.

The blood elf looked enigmatically casual despite the battle taking place just atop the steps. Whether he knew of Rayne's past deeds and simply chose to ignore them was still a mystery. Either way, everyone here knew who their true enemy was. Rayne found no dissent in the Captain's eyes and that was good enough for him.

With the initial pleasantries out of the way, there was still something that bugged the paladin. The four captains were here as a part of the main Argent Crusade force but Crok was a different story altogether. He may have said what their mission was but never mentioned why a Knight of the Ebon Blade was commanding what looked like a specialist force into the heart of Icecrown Citadel. That prevailing thought clawed at Rayne's curiosity and before they could begin, he was anxious to know the truth.

"And what exactly is _your_ –"

"You may have once fought beside me, Crok, but now you are nothing more than a traitor," a booming voice called from the distance. "Come, your second death approaches!"

Everyone's attention immediately snapped eastward. At the end of the hallway, through the massive battling vrykul and desperate Argent Crusade soldiers stood a menacing and unforgivingly conversant monster.

"Weasel!" Called the paladin. He immediately switched his goggles to the zoom setting and peered down for a closer examination. "Do you see that?"

"Yep," the gnome gulped. "This one looks particularly bitchier than the others."

He was absolutely right. The val'kyr's armor was thick and shimmering like a prominent silver vein. Darkened leather straps wrapped around her legs and thighs. A pair of ominous black and white wings sprouted from her back in almost a thirty-foot span. They flapped intimidatingly with rhythmic beats keeping the powerful monster afloat off the ground. In her hand rested a vile black spear. The tip pulsed with radiant blue energy that reminded Rayne of that cursed runeblade. His shoulder itched at the memory once more.

Rayne returned his goggles to the threat assessment setting and looked back over towards the orc.

"An old friend of yours?" Sighed Weasel as he adjusted the settings on his engineering goggles as well.

The death knight turned away for a moment. His thoughts seemed to dwell on horrid moments reemerging.

"Her name is Svalna. She was the one who raised me and commanded me during the battle at Light's Hope Chapel," Crok painfully admitted. "I served her for a long time. She –"

"So," sighed Marcus. "Another revenge mission?"

"Aw jeez," the gnome whined. "Not again."

"No," Crok defended. "I didn't even know she –"

"Save it," the paladin interjected cutting everyone off before tensions got heated. "We're not here to judge him or his cause. Our mission is clear and if Narula says our dragon is beyond this hall then it is to our mutual benefit to assist each other."

The Templar Knights didn't raise a single word in defiance. Time was definitely not on their side. They needed to find Valithria as soon as possible. It didn't matter if their allies were out for revenge, redemption, or fortune. As long as the Lich King's minions stood in their way, they were going to have to fight together.

"Alright everyone!" Rayne ordered. He turned his attention towards the battling Ymirjar and pointed the blade of the Templar forward. "Let's go!"

The paladin watched as his companions charged headstrong into battle. Marcus and Ademski blitzed passed him with their weapons drawn and immediately began thrashing the first Ymirjar warriors that stood in their way. Rayne turned and cast his gaze upon the night elf. She stood close behind him, ready to enter combat as soon as he moved in himself. Narula wasn't about to leave his side again; not now and certainly not ever again.

An alarm blared upon Rayne's goggles. He didn't even have time to read the message before instinctively throwing his shield up in defense. Metal clanged with a powerful vibration. The paladin cradled his beloved in his arms with his bulwark resting over her back and head keeping her vital areas protected.

"Raymond?!" The night elf gasped.

"Are you al –"

"RAYNE TEMPLAR!"

Rayne slowly lowered his shield. His eyes fixated at the source of the new voice in the distance near the spire. A black pit in his stomach immediately started to grow attempting to swallow his organs whole.

"Lorelei?!"

The air in the paladin's throat evaporated. Standing no more than a few dozen yards away was the blood elf Lorelei Starstrider. Her sickening gaze was cast upon them. Those menacing green eyes clamoring for death didn't even flinch as she nocked another arrow and pointed it back in their direction.

"What are you -," began Rayne before suddenly stopping himself cold.

He looked down at the first projectile the young elf let loose. His heart immediately went cold. The paladin would never forget the deadly craftsmanship on the weapon that nearly murdered his beloved. Countless thoughts and emotions began flooding through, however, not a single one of them remotely resembled anger. It confused Rayne beyond all disbelief. He should have been furious with Lorelei. She attempted and nearly succeeded in killing the night elf outright. And yet, when he looked upon the young elf once more, he could feel nothing but pity.

The tremendous anger he had once witnessed upon her had waned. She was angry but her eyes were desperate and weak. Lorelei no longer had the same passion for death as she once held. However, the paladin was not about to let this go unchallenged and unpunished. Lorelei had tried to harm Narula once more and from the looks of it, she was going to keep coming after them until either they, or she, was finally dead. Something needed to be done. No matter what happens, it had to end here.

Rayne took a step down the stairs clenching the blade of the Templar tightly. His path was immediately blocked by the night elf's extended arm. She calmly stood with her back facing the paladin. Narula's eyes were fixated on the young elf in the distance.

"This is not your fight any longer Raymond," she boldly stated. "Your place is with the others. Go and protect them. I shall handle this."

The night elf's arm was rigid and unflinching. She conveyed the utmost seriousness in her words that it was almost a sin to challenge them.

"Narula?" The paladin curiously began. "Are you sure?"

She nodded once without blinking.

"She and I have many things to discuss."

Rayne took a deep breath. He passed one last glance at the young elf. She slung the bow over her back and drew the broadsword from its scabbard. Narula, on the other hand, didn't fight with a weapon but given her talents, it wasn't like she needed on either.

There wasn't anything left he wanted to say nor that needed to be said. The paladin flocked up the stairs with his shield pressed forward and prepared to engage the Ymirjar resistance alongside the other Knights. He didn't dare sneak a passing glance at the night elf. If Rayne was caught checking up on her, she'd never forgive him.

Narula descended down the steps. Her pace was slow and methodically. The night elf's eyes never left Lorelei's. She didn't once blink which seemingly caused the young elf to tighten her grip on the broadsword and hold it closely in a defensive stance.

Trickles of light silver energy began to rise from the ground. Narula stopped her advancement no more than ten paces away from her green-eyed adversary. She began channeling the blessings of Eonar within her body. Her head sulked as the summoning began. It took careful concentration and meditation to call upon this power but in this form, she would be nigh unstoppable.

Radiant silver lights exploded atop the platform. The young elf flinched in awe of its ambient strength. Narula's body began to shift and change. Her arms and legs grew bulky, tripling her muscle mass nearly instantaneously. Feathers peaked out of her shoulders and biceps. Her hands tightened and from the tips of her fingers sprouted black claws nearly three inches long. Patches of hardened bark formed the leather armor over her shoulders, chest, and thighs. Powerful winds rose up from the ground wading through her delicate purple locks wildly.

The night elf's head snapped up as she howled. Her sharpened incisors had grown into a pair of gruesome fangs. The soft silver glow of her eyes now featured a sharpened orange orbs with thick black slits running through the irises. Crackles of silver light snapped off her body like whips of lightning.

A chill fell through the citadel. Lorelei clutched her weapon even tighter not knowing what she has just bore witness to. This incredible form was not seen by many and utilized by even less. It combined the strengths of every single druidic transformation into a singular harmonious being. She had the speed of the puma, durability and strength of the guardian, command over the mystical natural energies of the moonkin, and the uncanny resistance of the tree of life. The first female druids initially made its discovery during their training. Narula was the only one among them to master it.

The young elf's hand began to tremble inexplicably. Throughout her brash and murderous exterior, a tiny trickle of fear slowly started to surface.


	18. Chapter 17

_The Frostwing Halls_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

The paladin's blade sliced through the unguarded vrukrul's ribs, tearing through the frozen straps of his leather armor and drawing lines of blood. He howled in defiance, flailing his weapon madly and out of immediate danger. Rayne spun the blade back, catching the hilt in a downward angle and driving the tip of the longsword through his opponent's knee. The Ymirjar deathbringer stumbled forward. His fall was aided by the cracking of the paladin's steel bulwark across his back.

Blood flowed from the fallen Ymirjar's skull as his head bounced off the hardened saronite stairs. He succumbed to the blissful touch of darkness as Rayne quickly moved passed him and made his ascension towards his other allies. The paladin raced between Samuel and Zariyana. They were busy channeling smites and raining down holy fire against the Ymirjar army to even notice Rayne's presence. Cayden was not too far ahead either. The mage had engulfed the walls with roaring flames, forcing the opposing force to funnel in tightly and thus, make their movements clunky and hindered as they constantly battled on another for space to fight. While they were busy trying to make room to swing their manically axes and polearms, Cayden was free to pick them off individual though carefully aimed gouts of explosive fireballs.

At least a dozen of the val'kyr's minions had fallen by the time the paladin reached the top of the stairs. Ademski and Marcus were locked in arms against a pair of Ymirjar battle-maidens. A trio of huntresses were rushing towards them. They spread out and positioned themselves tactically in order to take clean shots with their bows against Rayne's comrades.

The gleaming white shield adorned with the Templar crest began to glow wickedly with divine energy. It launched from the paladin's hands with desperate ferocity. The three huntresses cried out in near unison as the bulwark cracked off their skulls and drove them flat upon their backs. Rayne caught the shield immediately upon its return and affixed it back over his left arm.

Blades clashed as the paladin engaged the nearest Ymirjar warlord. He stood shoulder to shoulder along his fellow Knights as they continued to duel with the female Ymirjar casters.

"Hey kid!" The warrior grinned pressing his mace tightly against the battle-maiden's throat. "What took you so long?"

Marcus' humor notwithstanding, it was a nice change of pace to hear him in good spirits. The threat of imminent death didn't even appear to faze him despite nearly suffering from in just a few minutes ago himself. Though the warrior asked his question half in jest, Rayne opted to ignore answering it outright. Explaining what he just walked away from would take time and focus, both of which they did not have the luxury of at this moment and decided to change the subject.

"Where's Weasel?"

The paladin's blade caught the downward axe of the warlord and nearly drove him to his knees. He struggled to push himself up. His strength waned and started to fail him. This Ymirjar was much tougher than he anticipated. Rayne was sinking fast and with no were else to go than down to the unforgiving ground, he urgently struggled to spare him from that dastardly scenario.

A horrific roar lifted from the warlord's throat. He wailed in utter anguish as a pair of thin daggers penetrated behind his ears and dug into the Ymirjar's tainted brain. The bellowing cry grew silent. As life slipped from his grasp, the warlord fell backwards. Standing proudly atop his shoulders as he descended was the aforementioned gnome.

"Right here boss," answered Weasel as he flipped forward to join the other Knights.

"That took a lot of guts Fun-size," the warrior teased. "I didn't think you'd have the brass to sneak past them all."

"What?" Shrugged the gnome. "You don't think I'd actually fight fair, did you?"

While the paladin would welcome the opportunity to relish in their humorous banter, more Ymirjar charged forward. They came in droves from the eastern side of the hall. The val'kyr was still flying in the back, guarded by a pair of fearsome Ymirjar warlords. They were almost ready to engage but the mass of undead vrykrul warriors proved to be their stopping point. Someone would have to cut through their ranks in quick succession before the Templar Knights and Argent Crusade get overrun which prompted the guild leader to inquire about their last missing member.

"And Saelena?!" Rayne desperately called out towards the battling draenei slicing through another frightful adversary. "I didn't see her on my way up. Where is she?"

The draenei couldn't hold back a grin. He nodded upwards before clashing with another Ymirjar deathbringer. Their blades met and as they began this test of strength, he answered the paladin with a smile.

"Hunting."

Rifle shots exploded throughout the hall. In the distance, the oncoming Ymirjar troops were falling in droves. Bullets pierced through their skulls and throats. They collapsed in a heap atop each other one after the other.

Rayne peaked over the shoulder and caught the hunter in question dangling upside down nearly twenty feet in the air baring down the scope of her rifle. The grappling hook appeared safely secured bound between crevasses in the upper roof. Not even the Ymirjar huntresses could even get a shot off before being subdued by a rapid piece of hot steel.

"Fight on comrades!" The orc cheered. "The val'kyr approaches. Let us finish this!"

Crok and his Argent Crusade subordinates charged the path and engaged the outlying Ymirjar. They were attempting to push past the Templar Knights and make their way to the forefront of the battle. As much as Rayne was thankful to have them at his side, he had no knowledge or experience with their combat prowess. They should not be rushing to the front lines so haphazardly. The orc appeared to only have conquest in his mind.

"Stay back!" Commanded Rayne. "We'll create a breach and –"

Warning sirens filled the paladin's vision. His goggles blared a dangerous threat in the distance. Svalna raised her massive spear. She cocked the weapon over her shoulder and prepared to unleash its deadly force against the invaders.

"Miserable creatures," the val'kyr hissed. "Die!"

Rayne's mind immediately snapped as he pushed the stubborn Ymirjar aside and prepared to avoid the oncoming attack. Svalna fired her spear forward down the hallway. She kept her grip on the weapon as a sickening crackly of lightning exploded through the tip.

"Look out!"

Despite the paladin's best efforts, Captain Brandon was unable to heed his warning. A bolt of mystical blue energy shot forth from the val'kyr's staff. It pierced through the elder human's chest boring a near foot-wide hole in its wake. Brandon wheezed defiantly as he collapsed to his knees. The blood elf immediately leaned down and cradled the body of his ally.

"No amount of healing can save me now," Brandon gasped. "Fight on, brothers..."

Arnath had difficulty accepting that noble sentiment. He was unwilling to let go even with death consistently looming over them. Out of all of them, Captain Rupert appeared to have the most level head and tugged at the blood elf's shoulder.

"Hurry," to foresaken soldier demanded. "Before that val'kyr picks us off!"

He took his eyes off Svalna for one second too long and that was all she needed to capitalize on it. The val'kyr's bolt drilled through his stomach. Rupert painfully gasped as the powerful energy that cauterized his skin and left a hole in both his body and mission.

"It was…" Grimaced the foresaken. "A worthy afterlife."

In the blink of an eye, the Argent Crusade's forces were cut in half and would continue to dwindle if they didn't act fast.

"We've got to engage that val'kyr!" Captain Grondel shouted. "Less she keeps taking us out bit by – "

The dwarf's words were cut off by the newfound pain in his chest. Rayne charged at him with his shield facing forward and knocked him clear out of the way from another oncoming bolt of energy. The Ymirjar between them howled in defiance as his master's weapon tore right through him. Grondel panted with great ferocity. He stared back at his savoir who returned nothing more than a look of pure grimace.

"Next time," the paladin scowled. "Listen to my commands. Got it?"

The only thing the dwarf could muster in response was a quick but humble nod.

Rayne stood up and watched as the warrior and draenei combined their efforts to dispatch the last Ymirjar deathbringer. The paladin's breaths were quick and labored. He was more winded than he would normally be exerting this level of effort but paid it no mind.

"Your soldiers are all but defeated Svalna!" Taunted the orc. He stood beside Rayne and pointed his axe upward between the two remaining Ymirjar warlords. Its edge stared pitilessly at the val'kyr. "After we kill these last Ymirjar, you'll have no one left to stand against us."

The death knight readied his axe and prepared to engage.

"This ends here."

"Foolish Crok, you brought my reinforcements with you!"

Svalna raises her hand and throws it upward. A wave of cold force washes over the Knights. It was a chill that rattled each of them down to their very bones.

"Arise Argent Champions and serve the Lich King in death!"

"No…" Rayne huffed.

The paladin turned around to the sounds of shuffling armor. Everyone else immediately followed suit. A teeming sense of dread claimed grasp of his heart. Rising from their proverbial graves, Captain Brandon and Rupert slowly stood to their feet. Their skin had become washed and greyed. Though their flesh did not have time to decay, the light within them had seemingly been taken over by the dark embrace of undeath.

"What? This strength...? All of the pain is gone!" Bradon cheered. He immediately pointed a sharp finger towards Rayne. "You... must join me in the eternal embrace of death!"

"There is no escaping the Lich King's will," added Rupert. He readied his longsword and stood in a combative stance. "Prepare for an explosive encounter!"

This harrowing situation had grown much worse in the span of several seconds. The Templar Knights were trapped between the val'kyr and their former allies who have just been raised before their very eyes to join the minions of the Scourge.

Captain Rupert lunged forward and made his move to strike first. His blade was immediately caught by the blood elf's staff. Arnath howled as he pushed the former foresaken soldier back and into the adjacent wall.

"We'll take care of them Crok!" The blood elf shouted. "You just keep that val'kyr occupied before she kills and raises the rest of us!"

The orc was stunned at the sight and nearly paralyzed where he stood.

"Are you su –"

"What are ye waiting fer?!" The dwarf snapped. He immediately tackled the former Captain Brandon and drove the human flat upon his back and away from their allies. "Go on! Get to it lads!"

That was all of the motivation they needed to return to their primary task. The Templar Knights tightened their stances and prepared to engage. Crok stood beside the paladin and held his axe tightly. The determination in his glowing blue eyes spoke what words could never say.

"Come Scourgebane, I'll show the Lich King which one of us is truly worthy of the title, champion!"

* * *

 _The Spire_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

Saronite cracked as the night elf leapt forward. She cleared the distance between her and Lorelei in an instant. Narula's hand came crashing down upon the ground. Bones and metal debris shot up from the point of impact like a geyser. The young elf barely escaped the crushing blow. Even the violent winds gracing her skin warned her of the impact's deadly force.

Lorelei jumped back and held the broadsword firmly across her chest. She didn't anticipate the sheer speed of the night elf and grossly underestimated her strength as well. Had that attack landed on its intended target, the young elf feared she would have shared a similar fate as the crumpled crater standing between them.

The missed strike didn't even deter Narula in the slightest. She planted her hand into the newly created saronite dent, used the continuing momentum to spring herself forward and flip towards the young elf in one swift motion. The night elf swiftly landed before her. She immediately hopped up and spun, swinging her beefy leg forward. The roundhouse kick caught the flat of Lorelei's broadsword as she struggled to defend herself from the blow.

A vicious screeching sound filled the citadel. The young elf was driven back by the immense strength of Narula's attack. She skidded nearly fifteen feet away before coming to a slow and grueling halt. The nerves in her feet were engulfed in pain much like her midsection just before it. She immediately feared what that kick out have done if she hadn't have been quick enough to block it.

Lorelei cursed at the thought and immediately drew the vial of poison from her pouch. The night elf hadn't closed in on her yet. It was as if she were more beast than elf at this point. Gone was the painfully immaculate visage of beauty she once held. Narula appeared almost as if she were an amalgam of all creatures prided by druids everywhere.

An embarrassingly horrid though entered the young elf's mind. She couldn't believe someone like the paladin could fall for such a hideous creature. For some reason beyond all logical comprehension, it irked her. Their bright and pleasant exteriors masked their true hideous forms buried well beneath the surface. At the end of the day, they were nothing but beasts and tyrants and these two monsters deserved each other.

There was no need to caution any more. If the young elf was going to go down, she wanted to take this bitch of an elf with her.

"I'll hurt him. I'll make him pay," sneered Lorelei through a menacing expression.

The young elf smashed the vial of poison over her blade. Shards of broken glass fragmented off the flat of the broadsword in a torrent of fury. The generous clear toxin that remained coated the hardened steel edge. It may have only been half of what was needed to cover the entire surface but more than enough to fulfill its intended purpose.

"I'll kill you!"

Lorelei charged forward with the blade slung over her shoulder. She spun it downward in a sickening arc. The broadsword screeched as it tore through the air with wicked ferociousness. Narula easily evaded the strike without so much as flinching. That drew at the young elf's ire even further. She started swinging the weapon maniacally without style or skill. The night elf swiftly dodged each and every one of them almost as if she were taunting Lorelei. Seconds had barely passed but it appeared her patience had reached its breaking point.

"How can you even defend that monster?!" Snapped the young elf. "After everything he's done!"

Vocalizing her frustration aided in strengthening her swings but did much little else if they weren't connecting. Lorelei only needed to score one clean hit but as the night elf backed up, dipping and swaying through her offense, it proved to be an immense challenge she may be unable to conquer.

"You don't know what it's like to lose everything you've ever loved!" The young elf snapped. She wildly swung the broadsword and cut nothing but empty air once more. "To have everything stolen from you!"

Much to her surprise, Narula's eyes appeared to wince ever so slightly at that comment. Lorelei had found the chink in the night elf's armor. Perhaps she would need to push her even further to lengthen the crack.

"I loved him!" The young elf cried. "And he betrayed me!"

The broadsword flew in a deadly curve aimed towards Narula's neck. Once again, the night elf evaded the attack but a few flailing strands of purple hair were not so lucky. Despite missing another swing, that view warmed the young elf's heart. Lorelei was finally getting to her and tearing through that intimidating presence. One more good nudge would send her right over the edge and into the welcomed arms of her poisoned blade.

"I won't let him get away with this!" The young elf shouted. She continued to swing her blade chaotically hoping for the chance of even a glancing blow. "I'll take away everything he has ever loved."

Air sliced as the broadsword continued to tear through it unhindered.

"After everything he's done," sneered Lorelei. "After all the misery he's given me…"

The young elf's attacks were proving futile against Narula's uncanny agility. There was no point in attempting to continue this outright and exhaust herself any more than her labored breaths were currently experiencing. She went in for a piercing strike. The blade jabbed ahead, missing the night elf's ribs by inches as she dodged. A smile nearly formed on Lorelei's lips as she poked her elbow at and caught the snarling beast right across her damned lips.

A calm air filled the circular platform. Narula flipped backwards and added some distance between them. From the corner of her lips, a tiny trickle of blood fell almost reaching her chin. The young elf scored a clean hit for the first time in this battle. Her strategy had proven more effective than she originally anticipated. The night elf may have taken the form of a monster but on the inside, she was as fragile and as the rest of them.

The beast had only tasted a fragment of Lorelei's strength. She may have looked intimidating but it only took some meek taunting to throw the night elf off her game. If that was all it took to tilt the tide of battle in her favor; this was almost too easy. Now it was time for her to do the intimidating.

"If it's the last thing I ever do," she scornfully spoke. "I'll make him suffer!"

The young elf released a terrifying shout. She screamed at the top of her strengthened lungs. The entire area quavered underneath her might. After a few moments, the sound dissipated. Lorelei panted heavily and almost wanted to grin as she prepared to tear the night elf apart limb from sickening limp. However, staring back at her with those powerful amber eyes proved that she was anything but scared.

"You wish to make him _suffer_?"

Narula casually wiped off the small line of crimson fluid from her cheek. She lunged forward and in the blink of an eye, seemingly disappeared from sight and teleported inches away from the young elf's face.

"You don't know the meaning of the word!"

Wind tore through Lorelei's through. The night elf's fist crashed into her midsection and forced all of the air to explode out of her lungs. Excruciating pain gripped the young elf's conscious as she reeled back. Before she could step away any further, a new rush of torment erupted as Narula vaulted a devastating knee upward and cracked her chin.

The night elf flipped back and landed safely upon her feet. Lorelei continued to tumble, gripping her agonizing stomach in one hand and her sorely bruised face with the other. The young elf's knees buckled, almost giving way entirely. She couldn't succumb so quickly and easily. After only two clean shots, the battle had almost entirely shifted in Narula's favor.

"You have no idea of the torment he went through," the night elf snarled. "All because of _you_ …"

Narula's mood changed. Before she attacked like a wild beast but still appeared to be cool, calm and in control. There was a tinge of acid on the night elf's words as spoke. It was almost as if she were growing angrier by the moment. While this is exactly what the young elf had hoped to achieve, never did she imagine awakening such a colossal beast of emotions lurking within. Something itching at her mind warned Lorelei that she had made a grave mistake.

"I watched it all," the night elf hissed. "All of his tears. All of his sorrow. Consoling him in his time of need knowing that I couldn't comfort him in the way I desired and he deserved."

The ground started to tremble. Flickers of lightening shot up from the surrounding area. They coursed around Narula's body, infusing her with their powerful energies once more.

"You know nothing of his plight!" Snapped the night elf. "He nearly killed himself seeking redemption!"

Lorelei eye's widened. The ambient energy began to swell over. There was so much tremendous force being challenged it took everything the young elf had just to remain standing. She gulped heavily as Narula looked upon her with vengeful eyes.

"Raymond has a heart bigger than you will ever know," she scowled.

The anger in her expression grew tenfold as she charged at the young elf.

"And it belongs to me!"


	19. Chapter 18

_The Frostwing Halls_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

The paladin clenched his fists. He stared back at the imposing val'kyr and her remaining two vrykrul minions standing beside her. Their axes were nearly half as large as an entire human. Just one hit from them would crumple any of them outright, that is after the razor-sharp edges severed their delicate nerves to start.

"Marcus, Ademski," began Rayne. "Can you two take care of those warlords?"

There was no way they could engage these Ymirjar while that damn Svalna still roaming nearby. She already proved her power was a forced to be reckoned with. Splitting the party was not the ideal solution but if the paladin could get close enough, he would ensure that white witch's spear never made it an inch past his shield.

"It is, how you say, a slice of pastry," grinned the draenei.

"We've got this kid," the warrior retorted. "Get in there and show that spectral bitch who's boss."

A smirk pursed on Rayne's lips. He didn't need any more assurance. The paladin took off without warning, kicking off remnants of dirt from his grieves, and sprinted towards the val'kyr. Fearsome roars echoed into the room as the two Ymirjar prepared themselves to engage.

The rest of the knights were still trailing being Rayne. He never gave them any indication to his intentions but that, in and of itself, was the true purpose. The paladin gripped his bulwark tightly and charged it with a mass of gleaming gold energy. It launched from his grip, passing between the two warlords, and leaving behind a trail of shimmering radiance.

Svalna telegraphed the divine projectile and easily swatted it away with a flick from her spear. The shield barreled back towards Rayne as the warlords raised their axes and prepared to strike him down with a pair of sweeping swings. Their blades sliced wickedly into the frozen air. The paladin barreled forward and rolled underneath the deadly blows before planting his feet and readying to vault up.

Steel winced as the draenei and warrior locked arms against the Ymirjar. They didn't even give their initial adversary a passing glance. Rayne sprang from his feet and leapt towards the val'kyr. His caught the bulwark mid-flight and affixed it back to his arm. Saronite cracked underneath the powerful greave of the paladin upon landing before Svalna. Splinters of light funneled through the trenches. It surrounded the Valkyr entirely as Rayne raised his blade and engaged.

"Everyone!" The paladin shouted. "Circle her and attack!"

The Knights did as their leader commanded. Each of them spread out in a wide area leaving only the paladin and gnome within melee range. Rayne wanted to be as close to the val'kyr as possible. If he stood within melee range, the paladin could easily calculate and counter each of her spear strikes before it ever left his immediate threat area. She would have to exert far more effort to attack anyone else and with those precious few moments afforded to him, Rayne could easily deter or even deflect her attacks outright as his companions unleashed their assault. Despite a cunning and dedicated strategy presented before her, Svalna didn't appear fazed in the slightest.

Each plate of the paladin's armor trembled. The val'kry screeched hideously as she raised her spear. She drove the crackling blue tip down. Rayne's instincts forced him to leap sideways barely escaping the weapon's malevolent wrath. The ground quaked spewing chucks of debris from the sight of the blast. Bits of frozen steel pelted the paladin's armor as he landed. Rayne continued to reel from their oncoming onslaught as his goggles blared a dire warning.

Svalna was more cunning than he gave her credit for. She used the initial attack as a distraction to drive Rayne away as she lifted her spear outward and prepared to launch it at the male Legend twin carefully preparing a divine spell. With the paladin caught off guard, she was free to pick off the remnants in the back at her leisure.

A burst of radiant light shot forth for the blade of the Templar. Rayne funneled the golden energy through his weapon as he openly slashed at the val'kyr. His longsword screeched against Svalna's thick armor and rattled the menacing creature to her core. She shrieked just as the spear's blast was finally released.

The bolt of wicked blue malevolence passed harmlessly between the Legend twins before erupting the ground in a smoking saronite cater. They paid the deadly strike no mind as columns of radiant flames erupted atop the val'kyr's body.

Rayne breathed a little easier knowing he had made it just in time. The strike may not have had enough strength behind it to stop Svalna's attack entirely but it did cause her to flinch and miss her intended targets. Fortunately, he wasn't here to take the val'kyr down all by himself. There was an army of some of the finest champions Azeroth has ever known ready to do that for him.

The Templar Knights rained down a collective might of unbridled fury. A volley of gunfire erupted from Saelena's rifle. The hunter pelted the Svalna's backside in a torrent of bullets. She aimed right at the base of her wings in an attempt to keep the creature off balance and unable to use them for anything other than keeper the val'kyr afloat.

Blazing flames of unmatched wrath engulfed Svalna's wings. The mage channeled a torrent of fire and concentrated the spell's focus to continue burning the gleaming white appendages. In a place riddled in an eternal chill, there was no way this val'kyr would be able to weather the roaring inferno slowly encapsulating her.

The plan was working. Svalna continued to shriek in agony as the Templar Knights unloaded their unflinching assault. Her spear flailed wildly into the air in a vain attempt to block to torment funneling over her near incorporeal form. Whenever the val'kyr found a brief moment to aim, her helm would be rocked by a stray bullet from Saelena's rifle or a pair of radiant incantations from the twin priests. Not to mention, Rayne continued to slash against her armor and kept her attention drawn while forcing her attacks out of focus.

Explosions rippled through the area. The val'kyr was getting desperate. She fired the spear's energy wildly throughout the area hoping to score a hit against at least one of them. Her attacks were in vain. With each strike against her only proved to make her more incompetent. The spear's energy was now crashing against the walls well over the Knight's heads and nowhere near as threatening as they once were.

Svalna let out a frenzied shout. She swept her spear downward. The tip cut through the ground between her and the paladin with relative ease. A smoky gout of saronite-infused dust rose from the blackened trench and immediately engulfed Rayne's nostrils. He coughed in defiance hoping not to swallow a single fragment of that foul substance. As the cloud parted, he bore witness to a desperate and angry val'kyr holding the spear in both hands and ready to drive it down atop him where he stood.

Crackles of violent energy rattled the paladin's shield. Rayne fell to his knee. The val'kyr's strength was unlike anything he had ever imagined. His arms trembled as he distressingly tried to keep the tip of that deadly weapon from piercing anything other than his bulwark.

Svalna continued to shout as she drilled her weapon downward. The flagrant onslaught of attacks from the surrounding Knights didn't even seem to register. She continued to test the paladin's strength knowing full well her own demise may be imminent. It didn't even seem to matter to the val'kyr anymore. Taking down one of them now would be just as good as taking down any of them. In a war of attrition, morale was everything. Their army becomes weaker with every death. The Lich King's only grows stronger and this specific champion would make a mighty fine servant of his.

The immense burden of weathering the blow was proving to be more than Rayne could handle. His arms vibrated in utter defiance. They were unable to listen to his commands any longer. The paladin felt the weight of the spear slipping upwards. His strength was all but depleted. Where it had all gone was almost impossible to determine at this point. He was more concerned with the lethal blue tip of vile energy slowing inching its way towards his head.

Saronite exploded behind Rayne as he cried in anguish. The spear slashed downward at him slicing at his trapezius and drove into the ground. Blood immediately rose from the wound as the paladin rolled forward and landed flat upon his back directly underneath Svalna. Though his nerves screamed for attention, the gash appeared to have only grazed him. Rayne could still feel his arms and the pain wasn't blinding, however, all of his energy had nearly been exerted trying to block the val'kyr's strike and he was unable to even lift his sword or shield in defense.

All of the Knights attacks had stopped. The paladin now laid at Svalna's mercy. He desperately tried to lift the blade of the Templar up in his defense but even keeping a tight grip on it proved more taxing than he could currently afford to spend. The val'kyr's spear hovered threateningly above.

"Oh no you don't you skanky-armored hag!"

The gnome's whiny voice echoed into the chamber as he leapt onto Svalna's head. His daggers dug underneath the val'kyr's helm. Her horrific cries filled the chilling air. Weasel cringed as he employed all of his strength to pry the damn armor off of her shrieking face.

Light sparked before Rayne's eyes. The opportunity to strike was staring boldly at him. He didn't need a sword or shield to take Svalna down. The gnome had given him a chance he didn't initially see and by the looks of the val'kyr, neither did she. The paladin released the grip of his longsword, carefully reached over and loaded a rocket into his hand-mounted pyro-launcher. He had just enough strength left in him to aim it upwards at the new opening underneath Svalna's helm.

"Weasel!" Shouted Rayne as he aimed his rocket upward. "Move!"

The rocket ignited and launched from the gauntlet. A trail of menacing black smoke rose upwards as the projectile detonated against the val'kyr's slightly exposed face. She shrieked in utter torment at the newfound gout of agony exploding before her. Weasel heeded the paladin's warning and landed harmlessly upon the ground just a few short feet away.

A radiant barrier of light fell atop Rayne. His heavy breaths were slightly put at ease as the female Legend twin shielded him in a powerful dome of golden energy. Svalna continued to trembled in pain not knowing what new horrors awaited her.

Another dreadful roar shook the chamber. Crok Scourgebane released a terrifying battlecry as he leapt upwards to meet the reeling val'kyr. His axe was gripped strongly over his head. The orc launched it forward with one finally intimidating shout due the weapon's edge into Svalna's damaged helm, nearly splitting it into two separate pieces.

"Perhaps…" She painfully began. "You were right… Crok."

The val'kyr's echoing cries filled the room one final time. Her body fizzled off in a snapping of bright lights. The former white and black incorporeal form vanished before them in the sheer blink of an eye. Remnants of Svalna's armor rained down atop the paladin. Each piece bounced harmlessly off the priest's barrier and slid to the side.

The room immediately grew eerily quiet. Rayne's panting breaths were the only thing anyone could hear. The paladin was completely drained. While the combat itself was daunting, the overall encounter was much shorter than what would be required to feel so utterly exhausted.

As the final threat was confirmed to be extinguished, Zariyana's barrier slowly evaporated into the air. The paladin rolled over to his side, clutching the fallen blade of the Templar in his grip. Rayne planted the sword onto the ground and used it as a crutch to pull himself back to his feet. His heavy breaths were finally starting to slow. A renewed vigor filled his chest as the Templar Knights stood victorious once more.

"Is everyone," the paladin sluggishly began. "Alright?"

"Just peachy kid," Marcus grinned as he wrapped his beefy arm across their guild leader's neck and pulled him down into a tight headlock. "How was your view from down there? Were you able to get a good look at her _goods_?"

"Her what?"

Rayne struggled to breath let alone even contemplate what the warrior had meant by that statement.

"And here I thought a near death experience would have humbled him a bit," sighed Samuel.

"Some things aren't changed so easily my dear brother," the female Legend twin snicker. "For better or especially for worse it would seem."

"What are you talking about near-dead?" The warrior angrily fired back as he released Rayne from his grip. "I was all dead!"

"The jury's still out on that one," shrugged Weasel. "Going to need a young priest and an old priest to solve that mystery."

"But Samuel and Zariyana are standing right here," Cayden added with a raised eyebrow. "I don't understand why you would need any else to decipher –"

"I don't need two grumpy ones," the gnome interrupted. "Besides, I'm pretty sure Chromedome here would be more interested in the young priest's goods over the ice-princess over there."

"Weasel!" Marcus growled while raising his fist menacingly.

"What is this _goods_ you speak of?" A curious Ademski posed. "Our foes are vanquished and we are all alive and well. Did we not do _good_ just now?"

Saelena put a gentle hand atop her husband's shoulder and dejectedly shook her head. The draenei attempted to peer deeply into her eyes. She immediately turned away and attempted to stifle to swelling redness growing within her cheeks.

"Marcus wishes to mate with a val'kyr?!" Ademski groaned. "A'eidthi…"

The warrior slapped his forehead and immediately surrendered from further discussions. Even after another harrowing battle, the Templar Knights all seemed to be in their normal, albeit good spirits. Rayne was pleased to see his companions able to continue their regular demeanors. However, it would appear that some were not as pleased with the results as others.

Crok stood over the fallen val'kyr's helm. He slowly bent down and retrieved the gashed piece of armor. After staring at it for a few moments, the orc let the helm slip from his grasp without so much as another word. The remaining two Argent Crusade subordinates joined the death knight carrying their own scars of battle, both physical and mental.

"You fight wildly and without regard for your own body," sneered Crok at the approaching paladin. "However, it was a sound strategy. The rumors I have heard of you and your men may have been grossly exaggerated. Though, not by much it would seem."

Rayne couldn't help but laugh at that statement. It would seem the orc was not in the mood for pleasantries or gratitude. They were here to do their job and now that it had been completed, they could both continue onward with the task at hand. However, it didn't stop the paladin for showing a bit of concern for the valiant soldiers that fought beside him. It was just his nature.

"Are you alright?" Rayne calmly asked. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Captain Arnath and Rupert turned away refusing to say anything. It's not every day to watch your friends die only to see them rise again as your enemy. Putting them back down may have been the toughest challenge each of them had ever faced.

"We will be fine Templar," the orc huffed. "You should save your concern for your companion."

"What do you mean?" Rayne curiously inquired. "Everyone's here –"

Suddenly, the paladin's heart went cold. Rayne had been so caught up in the battle at hand, he completely forgot about the harrowing encounter he was forced to ditch. The paladin immediately rushed down the hallway towards the spire leaving behind only his thundering steps echoing throughout the chamber.

* * *

 _The Spire_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

A volley of arrows flew out in quick succession from the young elf's bow. Lorelei had sheathed her blade in favor of a ranged weapon to maintain a distance between her and the night elf. Something about Narula's tone and the manner of which she spoke was grossly unsettling. It was as if she were possessed by an unnatural and unwavering force. The young elf became desperate and fired off as many shots as she could against her charging adversary. One hit was all she was hoping for.

Bursts of silver light exploded from the night elf's hands. The oncoming projectiles disintegrated in midair almost instantly. Narula commanded a powerful torrent of nature's wrath within her palms and unleashed them upon the young elf's arrows. She channeled the silver energy with precision and finesse despite looking like a snarling beast rapidly approaching her prey.

Lorelei immediately slung her bow across her back and drew her sword once more. The night elf loomed ahead. She swiped her blade upward in an anxious attempt to sway Narula from proceeding any closer. The broadsword cut nothing but frigid air as the night elf rolled forward, ducking underneath the strike, and planting herself behind the young elf's unguarded backside.

A thunderous kick launched outward and cracked against Lorelei's spine. The young elf shrieked as the nerves in her back shouted with uncontrolled rage. She reeled forward, falling to her knees several feet away and clutching the newly agitated wound. Lorelei struggled to stand up but moved quickly almost instinctively. She turned around to find Narula's fearsome visage slowly approaching. Her deadly amber eyes stared back upon the young elf with great ferocity. Each step she took was slow and calculated. Lorelei clutched her broadsword tightly and tried to prepare herself for what was to come.

"Is this the extent of your feelings?" The night elf menacingly asked. Her voice was gruff and boomed with an echo as if a dozen soldiers were speaking out in unison with her. "You are weak."

Narula's words rattled the young elf's mind. She nearly let the blade slip from her grasp as the night elf lunged forward and delivered another brutal swipe with her claw. Lorelei barely had time to duck underneath the blindingly fast swing. Wind sliced across her neck with such disgusting speed that it nearly drew blood. The young elf's head snapped up hoping to find and evade the next oncoming blow only to catch a brutal backhand smashing against her jaw.

Staunch leather boots kicked across the frozen surface as Lorelei skid backwards before tumbling upon her rear. She planted her hands against the platform to stop her from falling completely flat on her back. The young elf's arms trembled. She hadn't experienced such uneasiness in what seemed like ages. New levels of anguish burned across her skin and bones. This sickening feeling reminded Lorelei of who she was before this damned mess ever began. The frustration of remembering her inexperience and weakness drove the young elf back to her feet as she painfully clutched her blade once more and gazed upon Narula's unrelenting visage once again.

"You have always relied on the help of others to survive," spoke Narula, clenching her fist tightly.

The broadsword started to rattle in Lorelei's hands. It was almost as if the weapon was becoming heavier by the second. Something about the night elf's words were causing her distress to grow tenfold. The young elf's strength was being sapped with each passing breath. As Narula barreled forward, she stood in a defensive stance hoping to avoid any, if not all of the oncoming onslaught baring down upon her.

"First, your brother!"

A powerful fist crashed across Lorelei's skull. She cursed in defiance as the blow's strength nearly tore her head from her neck entirely.

"Then Raymond!"

The night elf drilled a knee into her unguarded midsection. Its strength was so massive, the young elf thought Narula had hidden a cannon underneath her leather armor.

"And even that monster Yogg-Saron!"

A purple blur passed through Lorelei's hazy vision. The night elf spun and unleashed a commanding kick square against her sternum. All of the bones in the young elf's body quivered in sheer awe. Lorelei wailed as she was violently launched backwards off her feet like a glaive thrown by a powerful siege vehicle. The young elf's body crashed upon a nearby wall. Saronite cracked in defiance. She spilled forward leaving a slender dent inside the citadel's structure and planted the broadsword down to keep her from falling atop her face entirely.

"Or did you not think I would not recognize that horrid stench seeping through your pores?" Narula taunted. "To think you would seek such a wretched monster to aid your vengeance. Even now, his hold upon you wanes."

Lorelei continued to pant heavily. The night elf spoke a name she did not recognize. All of her aching nerves were demanding the young elf's full attention. Perhaps she was referring to that illustrious voice. It had been silent for weeks without so much as a whisper.

"They have all abandoned you," Narula calmly said. "Torn away by your weakness and inanity. There is no one is left to help you now."

The young elf's hands trembled. She could no longer sense that succulent strength coursing through her veins any longer. The night elf's words continued to haunt her. She was terribly strong; stronger than Lorelei could have ever dreamed. However, this was beginning to feel more like a nightmare than anything else.

"How can you hope to kill me when you can't even overcome your own limitations?!"

Chunks of debris kicked off Narula's boots as she leapt forward to pounce upon the kneeling young elf. She bore her thick fangs and snarled menacingly. The night elf reared her fist backward and prepared to end this silly encounter with one final strike. Lorelei could barely find the strength to stand let alone attempt to counter the attack that would seemingly bring about her demise. She mustered enough energy to look up at the face of impending doom when suddenly, a spark of light appeared before her humbled green eyes.

The ground quaked. Narula's fist slammed against the walkway unimpeded by the young elf's flesh. Lorelei rolled forwards and sprang to her feet. She unleashed a terrifying shout, spinning around and swinging the broadsword with all of her remaining might. The night elf had barely even landed before the weapon's deadly edge came slicing for her pretty little neck.

An air of silence filled the citadel. The blade stopped instantaneously. A renewed sense of dread filled Lorelei's heart. Its edge was caught in Narula's palm. The night elf held the broadsword in her powerful grip inches away from its intended destination. Try as she might. the young elf's cunning effort was seemingly in vain. However, a sinister smile slowly crept upon her lips. She didn't need a direct hit, just a single opening to get that toxin coursing through Narula's veins once more. The night elf had foolishly fell into her trap and didn't even realize that their duel was about to be decided.

"Enjoy the poison bitch," snarled Lorelei. "Let's see that bastard try to save you this –"

Her words were immediately cut off. Narula stared upon her with an unflinching expression. Her eyes were solid and fierce. She continued to clutch the blade as if the previous threat had not even registered. Lorelei continued to press the broadsword forward. Her conscious suddenly snapped in horror as she couldn't find a single trickle of blood coating the night elf's leather gauntlet.

A pocket of silver energy gleamed within Narula's palm. She had used that damned energy to protect her hands and stop the blade from even making so much as a gash upon her armor let alone flesh. Lorelei's expression cracked. Her eyes widened as the shock of her folly soon settled in. The young elf's grip upon the weapon loosened. She stood inches away from this terrifying creature. It took everything she had left to stop her heart from crumbling right then and there.

The night elf slapped away the broadsword with ease. She rocketed up a mighty fist and cracked Lorelei's open jaw guided by the remaining fury of the ancients. The young elf was throw upwards completely off her feet. She collapsed upon her back with a sickening thud and continued to roll backwards along the platforms. Arrows spilled from her quiver and rolled along the circular walkway. Lorelei came to a gruesome halt atop her face. The cold touch of the saronite structure pressed upon her cheek.

Painful whimpers echoed throughout the spire. A tear slowly rolled down the young elf's cheek. Her body was wrecked in completely torment. She no longer had the strength nor resolve to continue.

"You're right," Lorelei painfully admitted.

The young elf slowly pushed herself off the ground and to her knees. Another tear formed and quickly spilled off her chin and onto the walkway. Lorelei rose slowly. The broadsword coveted by her brother slipped through her thin fingers and spilled before her feet.

"I can't win."

Whimpering green eyes gazed upon the night elf. Narula's form was shrinking. Her muscles thinned, feathers fell from her back, and claws reverted back into her slender hands once more. The night elf no longer bore sharp fangs or harsh expression. She stood calmly no more than ten yards away as the young elf continued to confess.

"No matter how hard I tried," she winced. "I'll never beat him."

The young elf sulked hoping to hide her hideous tears from sight underneath the guise of her tattered golden locks.

"I've done terrible things," continued Lorelei. "Unforgivable things up until now and for what?"

All of the searing adrenaline that once coursed through the young elf's veins had run cold. Her body shuddered uncontrollably as the words came pouring out without hindrance.

"I thought vengeance would be easy and yet," she sniveled. "Everything I've done just wasn't good enough."

Lorelei grasped her shoulder with each opposing hand and clutched herself tightly. A sharp pain grew in her chest. It was as if an endless hole had been opened desiring to be sealed or filled and would not rest until it grasped what it truly wanted.

"I can't take this anymore."

The young elf stood to her feet and took a step back. Her body inched closer towards the edge of the circular pathway. No guardrails stood between her and the massive drop hundreds of feet below.

"I don't have a place anywhere now."

Lorelei's tears continued to flow without restraint. Without Jean, she was a lone Starstrider left to fend in a cruel and unforgiving world she had hardly known. She wished she could have gone back to be with him for one more day and beg her younger and much more foolish self to listen to his wisdom. Looking back upon it, killing Rayne or Narula would have simply been temporary relief to an itch that would plague her for eternity. The young elf would never get what her heart desperately ached for and one death or a thousand others taken in the name of vengeance would not fill that sickening feeling of emptiness growing within her chest.

"I'm tired of feeling this pain!" She cried. Lorelei's head snapped up and stared angrily at the night elf. "I just want this cruelty to end!"

The young elf took another step back. Her heel dangled off the ledge of the walkway. Lorelei gulped as she peered over the massive icy depths below. They called out to her. She finally realized that the only way to silence this agonizing pain continuing its clawing and merciless assault upon her conscious was to give up everything and embrace the darkness.

"Jean," Lorelei sobbed. "I'm coming."

Gravity embraced her descending body. The young elf closed her eyes as she fell into the deep icy pit. A clattering of heavy footsteps charged after her. Narula must have been foolishly attempting to stop her. Why she would even try something so humane after everything they've said and done to each other was beyond all comprehension now. The night elf couldn't fill the void in her heart. Only one person could do that now and he was dead. There was nothing left for her here and no more tears left to shed. All she wanted to was to be with him again and leave this nasty and ruthless world forever.

A sharp pain ignited in Lorelei's arm. Her body snapped and the cool winds that embraced her suddenly stopped altogether.

"Got you!"

The young elf's eyes popped open. Her heart trembled as she dangled over the deadly drop at the center of the spire. Lorelei immediately threw her gaze upward. A terrible wash of emotions suddenly flooded through her entire body. The tears the young elf thought she'd left behind soon found their way back into her eyes. This was the last person she ever wanted to see again. Laying at the edge of the walkway and desperately holding on to her slender arm was the clutching gauntlet of that damned paladin Rayne Templar.

 **End of Act II**


	20. Chapter 19

_The Spire_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

"What?" Gasped Lorelei. Anger funneled through her throat while she continued to curse out at the man above. "What are you doing?!"

Rayne cringed as the young elf flailed in his arms. He continued to hold on without fear or restraint. The burning itch gnawing at his shoulder was ignored as he fought to keep Lorelei in his grasp.

"I can ask you the same thing!" He fired back. "Just what in the hell are you thinking? Are you crazy?!"

"What - how dare you?!"

For a brief moment, she had forgotten about all of the pain and sadness taking over her emotions. The paladin continued to hold on to her without reservations. If he intended to make her descent and exit from this world even more painful than it already was, he was certainly achieving that goal.

"Let me go!"

"Never!"

A crack of lightning snapped into Lorelei's heart. She looked up at Rayne. Though he still wore those engineering goggles, she could still see nothing but pure determination pouring through them. Despite her dire protests, Rayne was not about to release her from his grasp.

"You just want to finish me off yourself!" The young elf barked. "Is this your sick way of humiliating me before –"

"That's not it at all!" He pleaded through clenched teeth. "Stop struggling!"

Lorelei rocked back and forth. She tried to reach up to him with her free hand but every last bit of strength she had was spent spouting anger-filled retorts at the blonde bastard refusing to do as she commanded. If ordering him didn't work, perhaps reaching out to that vile heart of his would do the trick.

"Stop it!" She implored shaking her head erratically. "I don't want –"

"Enough Lorelei!"

Another wave of shock coursed through the young elf. When he uttered her name once more with such keen passion, Lorelei couldn't find the strength within her to resist the paladin's efforts. She immediately ceased her resistance and dangled over the steep pit in his tight grip.

The young elf slowly began her ascent up. Rayne continued to pant and groan with every breath he took. He pulled Lorelei back atop the walkway and took a large sigh of relief. The paladin sat on his backside, planting his hands behind and keeping him propped up as he caught his breath. He passed a quick glance over towards Lorelei and found her sitting atop her knees sulking over what had just transpired.

"Why?" She meekly whispered. "After everything that I've done…"

Rayne sat up and pondered the young elf's question carefully. All things considering, he should have been outright furious and simply allowed her to fall to her death. Lorelei had shot him with arrows, broken his ribs, nearly took his head off with that broadsword laying between them, and the worst offense of all, almost murdered his beloved right before his very eyes. The fact that he didn't strangle her to death right here and now would have baffled anyone who had witnessed any if not all of the atrocities that took place.

A tranquil air settled between them. This was not the time to seek vengeance. Truth be told, the paladin almost wanted to thank Lorelei for bringing him to this point. If it weren't for everything they had done and suffered until now, he may have never known the pleasures that soon awaited him. As much as he wanted to hate her for bringing him to new depths of misery and sadness, all he could do now was be honest and faithful with her and let them both seek reprieve together.

The paladin crept up and knelt beside Lorelei. He took a deep breath and prayed that she was finally ready to listen to what he had to say.

"I was in your shoes not too long ago myself," he began. "Believe me, I know how you feel."

After the events of Wintergrasp, the paladin sought atonement for his own sins in one of the most atrocious ways possible. The nagging torment in his chest never seemed to cease no matter how much he tried to convince or cleanse himself of those memories.

"Living with that kind of pain was unbearable," continued Rayne. "Some days, I just didn't want to anymore. Hell, I even tried and nearly succeeded on several occasions just giving up entirely."

Thinking back to those atrocious memories left a sour taste in the paladin's mouth. He had been so utterly blind and foolish to what he was doing that he didn't even consider how truly selfish his actions were. Even though Lorelei may have not had the same friends and allies to mourn over her, she still had a place in Rayne's heart. The last thing he wanted to do was bring her any harm. Instead, he would offer the one thing she truly needed.

"Had I done that, I would have truly missed out on all of the blessings that soon awaited me."

The paladin smiled brightly. He leaned over carefully and placed his tender hand upon Lorelei's sullen and sulking shoulders.

"And I know those same blessings are awaiting you too."

Rayne pulled in closer. He could see small puffs of air seeping through the young elf's hair as she continued to sob.

"This pain is only temporary. Mistakes can be forgiven, wounds heal with time, and eventually we all grow stronger from the experience," the paladin calmly reassured. "Death is eternal. It's the one mistake that we can never redeem and never the answer to any problem life has to offer."

The overwhelming sorrow building in Lorelei's heart must have been ready to burst if she believed that was the only solution available. She needed to understand the consequences of her actions before she will ever be able to overcome them.

"The pain in _your_ heart may be relieved but it will never go away," Rayne said. "It will spread and multiply sadness to everyone you have ever known and who has ever had the blessing to know you as well."

He squeezed her shoulder softly hoping to help convey his next words properly.

"If anything were to happen to you," the paladin boldly started. "I would be devastated."

The young elf trembled in his hand. Her cries grew louder as the weight of Rayne's words toppled over her. The only thing he had left to do was remind her that despite everything that has happened, she still had a place in this world.

"I truly meant what I said," the paladin declared. "Back in Dalaran. Back in Ulduar."

Rayne took a deep breath and implored the fullest extent of his feelings to her.

"The last thing I ever wanted to is bring you sorrow," uttered the paladin in a sympathetic tone. "Now it is my duty to give you a reason to keep on living. To protect your legacy and that of your brother Jean. And I intend to live up to that promise for as long as there is breath in my lungs. We both have a long road ahead of us from here on out."

The young elf tensed up upon hearing her brother's name. After a few moments, she sighed and relaxed once again. The paladin pulled his hand back and took a deep breath. He finally seemed to be getting through to her.

"The path will not be easy," smiled Rayne. "Taking the first step is always the hardest part."

Lorelei's head snapped up. She looked upon him with tear soaked eyes. Her expression softened as she struggled to find the words to convey these new feelings. Thankfully, the paladin was not quite done.

"So, if you will allow me," he kindly spoke. "I may be able to help you on that journey."

Rayne glanced over at the night elf. She knelt down beside him and gently clutched his arm. They both peered at the young elf and smiled.

"I have this guild, the Templar Knights," laughed the paladin. "We're made up of some of the most unique personalities Azeroth has ever known."

Lorelei's expression cracked. The sorrow in her eyes started to wane. Her face trembled as Rayne looked upon her with that powerfully bright smile of his.

"And I was wondering if you'd like to –"

Lorelei barreled forward, collapsing atop his shoulder and coating them with tears as she wailed uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry Rayne!" She cried into the frozen spire. The young elf quivered atop him, squeezing him as tightly as she could muster as she continued. "Please…! Please forgive me!"

The paladin was nearly aghast at the sight. Moment earlier, Lorelei had sworn to take his life and that of his love Narula. Now, she laid in his arms, begging to be forgiven for her actions. The young elf was not the only one who sought peace from the never-ending torment. Rayne carefully cradled her quavering body and placed a gentle hand atop her head. He had given her the one thing they both needed in their darkest hour; redemption.

"I guess I'll take that as a yes," he jested.

Lorelei continued to sob in his arms. Any words she could mustered were barely audible above her overwhelming emotions spewing over him. She has been through so much and with no one else left to turn to, the young elf was looking for a new family call her own much like the other Knights before her. Just as he had offered them, Rayne promised to give her something good to look forward to each and every day. It was the least he could do after everything they've been through.

Minutes had passed before Lorelei finally freed the paladin from her painstakingly embarrassing embrace. She continued to snivel while wiping the last remnants of tears from her eyes. The young elf noticed her dismal expression and immediately pulled herself up and away from the situation.

"Thank you," she woefully began. "Thank you for everything Rayne."

A bolt of humility struck Lorelei in the chest. She gazed upon the Night elf who was surprisingly calm and collected throughout everything that had transpired. It was as if their brief encounter was just a faded memory. The young elf could barely look at her.

"I'm sorry Narula," Lorelei painfully begged. She averted her eyes and stared at the surface below praying no more tears waded through her vision again. Even speaking her name proved to be extremely taxing upon the young elf's heart. "Will you forgive -"

The night elf wrapped her arms around her and gave Lorelei a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you," Narula graciously spoke into the tender confines of her alabaster ear. "Your life has become a blessing to us both."

The young elf's eyes widened. She had come a long way since the trapped confines of Silvermoon City. Never in her wildest dreams did Lorelei every think that she would ever become not only forgiven, but thanked by the very person she nearly killed moments ago. Narula was absolutely right. She had been weak. This was true strength. If anything, the night elf would become a model of it that she could strive to achieve from here on out. The young elf gently squeezed her back and reciprocated the embrace with all of the newfound love swelling beneath her chest.

After a few tender moments, the elves separated from one another. Lorelei was about to utter another word of gratitude before a dreadful sight filled her vision. Dozens of scattered arrows still laid strewn about the circular walkway. She looked around almost embarrassingly before picking up the broadsword and beginning to clean up.

"I've made such a mess," she painfully laughed. "Excuse me."

The young elf made haste and began collecting her fallen projectiles. She would occasionally sneak a glance Rayne. Upon seeing his still smiling face, she immediately turned around and continued her work. Lorelei was still young despite everything that happened to her. It warmed to his heart to see old parts of her personality finally shining through.

A bolt of pain struck the paladin's arm as he attempted to push himself back to his feet. Rayne lifted his goggles and clutched his aching shoulder. If it wasn't the nagging itch still clawing at him from his previous encounter with the Lich King, the new gash from the val'kyr's spear was certainly making its presence known. The strain from grasping the dangling young elf over the edge moments prior wasn't helping things much either.

"Raymond," the night elf sighed. "Are you alright?"

The paladin nodded slowly.

"Just a little banged up," he joked. "I'll be fine."

Narula was apparently unconvinced. She knelt down to face him and gently pulled his hand away to examine the wound more closely. Upon initial inspection, the night elf frowned slightly before holding her palm over the cut and channeling a small cloud of natural energy. The soothing green lights numbed his pain and slowly began sealing the gash.

"You must be more careful my love."

The passionate tinge in his heart jolted wildly once more. Rayne had just come from another harrowing battle and yet, nothing drove him more wild than to hear those comforting words from the night elf. Blood quickly began to build and he could no longer face Narula with the same confidence he once held. He turned his head on instinct. It took all his poise and concentration to stop himself from grinning like a love-struck fool.

"What is the matter?" She enquiringly asked.

"N – nothing!" Stammered the paladin. It was hard to look at that gleaming expression of hers without melting entirely. Something told Rayne that she wasn't going to settle for anything less than a full explanation. He stuttered through it as best as he could. Sorting through these new and riveting emotions was a whole battle in and of itself. "It's just - When you say that out loud... It's not that I don't like it. Just that I'm not used –"

The night elf's free hand clasped atop his breastplate as she pulled him towards her and pressed her lips atop his. Tiny explosions of brilliant passion erupted in a mass of fervent delight. His eyes closed and the paladin nearly melted where he sat. Only a few glorious seconds had passed before Narula broke their delicious embrace. She looked back at him with a glistening smile and spoke once more.

"There are many things you will have to get used to from – "

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The two lovers immediately snapped their heads at the source of the distressing whine. Rayne's warmed heart immediately started to cool down upon seeing the rest of the Templar Knights standing before them. They had completely thrown caution to the wind and expressed their newfound passion without properly explaining, or in some cases even warning the others about it. The mixed levels of expressions on each of them told a unique story in and of itself. Sadly, not all of them were as pleased to hear the news as others.

"When did – How did – Why did?!" The gnome mumbled. He stumbled passed every word that spilled through his boisterously loud mouth. The sheer shock painted atop his expression was second only to the look of utter terror filling his eyes and he shouted once more. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Ha!" Laughed Marcus. "I frick'n knew it! Pay up runt!"

"This can't be," Weasel cringed. He pointed a fat finger towards the paladin. "You were all mopey and depressed like a zombie." His attention and direction immediately snapped at Narula. "And you were colder than the inside of this damned castle just a minute ago." He struggled to find the words to continue but for now, all the gnome wanted was an answer. "What – what happened?!"

The paladin fought with what to say next. All of the Knights attention was focused on them. In his heart, Rayne wanted to shout at the top of his lungs to express the joy he felt in this and every moment since finally sharing his love with the night elf. As much as he'd enjoy professing that right here and now, their duty took precedence over their feelings. The paladin cast his loving eyes towards Narula and prepared to give them an honest answer.

"It's," Rayne began with a smile.

The night elf's hand fell atop his. She squeezed it gently while leering into his soft blue eyes.

"A long story," finished Narula returning a mutual gaze.

"No!" The gnome angrily snapped. "I won't accept this! No more _long stories_! I want a real answer or I ain't paying this bald chiseler one rotting copper piece! You hear me – HEY!"

Weasel's rant was immediately cut off as the warrior grasped his black leather tunic and lifted him off the ground.

"What are you doing?!" He cried. "Lemme go!"

"A bet's a bet tinker-pants," grinned Marcus. He tugged at the gnome's pouch and swiftly removed the hefty coin purse that had been taunting him for days with little resistance.

"Wait – No! Gimme that!"

The warrior ignored his pleas.

"Here you go," Marcus spoke while tossing the pouch over to the male Legend twin who effortlessly caught it. "Thanks for fronting me the coins."

"Wait a second!" Wailed Weasel. "They knew?! Four-eyes made it seem like he had no idea at the table the other day! You used their greasy noble money to pay me?!"

"You think I have that kind of coin laying around?" Scoffed Marcus. "Besides, why are you so cheesed about where the money's coming from?"

"I'm not mad about that!" He lashed out. "I'm pissed that I could've gotten more!"

The warrior sneered and nearly let out a laugh before his tiny ally continued.

"Besides," the gnome angrily spoke. "Why would these two cold shoulders bet against me anyways? They're just as loaded as lovey-dovey blondie over there. It's not like they needed the money."

"They didn't do it for the money," sighed the warrior. "They just wanted to watch you squirm."

"I am not here for your amusement!" Weasel shouted flailing about in his companion's tight grip. "I am a real person! With real feelings! And real expenses! You've ruined my retirement!"

Marcus released the gnome from his grip. Slamming him hear wouldn't have given him the same satisfaction as watching Weasel writhe in agony. Being freed from his debt was nice but nothing beat the warm look of satisfaction upon the two lovers face and knowing he'd been right all along.

Rayne and Narula stood up slowly together. The paladin looked upon Samuel almost hoping to bore through his stiff expression and find the answer to the question about to be asked.

"Did you know the whole time?" Asked Rayne. "I mean, before this whole mess started?"

The male Legend twin casually removed his glasses, wiping the condensation from the lenses before returning the frames to his face.

"I am a creature of knowledge after all," shrugged Samuel. "I have many theories. But with you two, it was painfully obvious."

"Then, when we met in Dalaran," Narula inquired. "Where you merely testing my resolve?"

The priest's eye's flinched for the briefest of moments. If she hadn't been staring so intently at Samuel, the night elf would have missed it entirely. After a careful and deep breath, Samuel continued.

"Part of it, yes," the male Legend twin stated. "Though I can't say our father was pleased to hear of the results. Lord Templar was rather stern with his decision."

"My father?" The paladin's eyebrow rose as his pressed further. "What are you talking about? What does my father –"

"It's nothing!" Interrupted Zariyana. She stepped in between her brother and the paladin before continuing her protest. "Please pay him no mind Rayne. Samuel was merely instigating his ruse to pressure Narula much further than he should have."

The cold gaze of the female Legend twin made the entire citadel feel like the center of Blackrock Mountain. For a brief moment, traces of the old Zariyana had seeped through her stiff tone. While Rayne was thankful that some things returning to normal, he found it odd just how easily the priest could change her demeanor and attitude. The paladin was already starting to miss that reserved and forthcoming side of hers.

"You must forgive him. He can be quite inept when concerning the feelings of others."

"Uh," Rayne faltered before finding his smile once more. "Sure thing Zari. Don't worry about it."

The female Legend twin pursed her lips lightly before a brief but noticeable smile was revealed. It appeared as if she were struggling with finding the right words to say next but as soon as they came to her, Zariyana conveyed her feelings properly.

"I can safely speak for us both when saying that we are very happy for you and Narula and hope –"

"Rayne Templar!"

The boisterous voice calling out to the paladin immediately drew his attention. His eyes were able to catch the grand presence of the draenei and his wife before receiving a hearty slap on the back.

"Congratulations my great and good friend!" Ademski grinned. "We are much pleased to hear of the news. I will run all of the barrels in Northrend dry to help celebrate your upcoming nuptials."

"Nuptials?!" Gasped the paladin cycling through the wave of new emotions flooding over him. "Wedding?!"

Everyone shared Rayne's shocked sentiments. Normally, the draenei was the first one amongst them to get bits and pieces of the common language confused. However, he spoke with such joy and confidence that it appeared he was nothing short of serious when congratulating them.

"I haven't," the paladin began, tripping over his tongue as if it were two feet wide. "I mean – we haven't. That is – It's not like I haven't thought –"

"What is the matter Templar?" The draenei posed. "There is nothing to be shy about. Have you not already consummated with your beloved?"

The Templar Knights stood awe with their jaws dropped and immediately shouted in unison.

"Consummated?!"

Rayne pulled back. All eyes fell upon him and the night elf who was coyly staying quiet just behind him. In the blink of an eye, things completely got out of hand. He had to turn things around quickly before they were out of total control.

"Guys," the paladin cringed. "Now is not really the time nor the place."

"He's not denying it!" Weasel countered.

"I knew you had it in you kid!" Laughed the warrior. He gave his guild leader a hearty slap on the shoulder before peaking behind him and smirking toward the night elf. "How about it Narula? Was it good for you too?"

The night elf's bright silver eyes widened. She stared back at the others with a tinge of trepidation. Seconds later, she turned away, clutching at her cheeks to hide the new found swelling of color growing through her lush lavender skin. Rayne watched in awe. He had never seen that expression befall the night elf for as long as he could remember. Narula's resolve had withered and she stood behind the paladin genuinely embarrassed over what was transpiring.

A viscous fist slammed against the draenei's mighty shoulder. Ademski winced and the blow and clutched his arm to sooth the growing pain within. He looked down upon his wife. Her eyes shot upon and a look of utter anger and dread filled her expression.

"What are you saying Saelena?" Begged the draenei. "They were doing it right in front of us."

Everyone cast their gaze upon Ademski with furious curiosity. The draenei immediately picked up on the sudden change in tone as the atmosphere grew hotter by each rapidly passing the moment.

"Did my eyes lie to me?" Ademski pondered. "Or did you all not see them consummating here just a few moments ago?"

Marcus slapped his head so hard that the walls of the citadel shook in defiance.

"Can we please teach big blue some updated vocabulary?" Groaned the warrior.

The other Knights shared a collective sigh of relief. Rayne was especially thankful for the draenei's confusion as it helped stave off trying to explain the full details of what happened. There was certainly no need to discuss it any further.

Out of the corner of his eye, the paladin spotted Saelena continuing to glare over at him while standing behind her husband almost entirely out of sight from the others. She smiled and gave Rayne a wink before staring outward as if oblivious to what had just transpired. The paladin's heart tensed up for a brief moment but thankfully subsided quicker than expected. Saelena was rather good at keeping secrets and only a scant few Knights could translate her subtle gestures.

As the heated tensions slowly fizzled, Rayne caught a glimpse of Lorelei timidly standing a ways away. He had gotten so caught up in the heat of the moment that he had completely forgotten about their newest companion. Though their history together was sordid and required a great deal of time to explain everything, Rayne was positive that the others would warm up to her rather quickly.

"Everyone," the paladin called. He stepped away and walked over towards the young elf. Rayne smiled, placed his hand upon her shoulder, and warmly gestured towards everyone else. "I'd like to introduce you to the newest member of the Templar Knights, Lorelei Starstrider."

She nodded and offered a genuine but somewhat forced smile. It proved difficult to keep her composure since they were enemies not too long ago. The young elf's naivety was in great abundance but she hoped to remedy that all in due time. Taking the first step was definitely the most challenging. She was putting her faith in Rayne that he was truly a man of his word.

The rest of the Knights surveyed Lorelei from top to bottom with intrigue. An air of mild apprehension was quickly settling in. It was easily written on all of their faces. The warrior appeared to be the first ready to voice his concern. He turned away and scratched his head before speaking outright.

"Ain't she the tyke that peppered you full of arrows back at Wintergrasp?" Marcus casually asked.

"Yes," nodded Samuel. "And Rayne also carried her unconscious body after being swallowed whole by Yogg-Saron."

"With lingering injuries to his ribs as well," added Zariyana.

"You never told us what exactly happened in there either Rayne," Cayden reminded. "I'm still curious as to what transpired."

Rayne gulped and prayed no one else outside of himself, Narula and the young elf knew about the other arrow incident atop the Skybreaker. The night elf seemed to have let bygones be bygones regarding that particular encounter. What they exactly said to each other while the paladin was dealing with Svalna and her Ymirjar troops or as they hugged moments ago atop the platform was still a mystery. Narula acting so painfully natural about the whole thing made him almost too afraid to ask.

"That," the paladin smiled. "Was a misunderstanding."

The warrior sighed and shrugged his beefy shoulders.

"So, we picked up another stray?"

"I'm not a stray!" Lorelei snapped.

The paladin released his grip on the young elf as the mood soon grew dim. An adversarial mist wafted between them. This was not the start Rayne was hoping for. He had forgotten how fragile the young elf's emotions currently were. It would take some considerable effort to mend these fences. Thankfully, everyone else seemed to be up for the task as well.

"Kid's got some fire to her," smirked Marcus. "I like that."

"You always did attract the strangest bedfellows," Samuel stated.

"By the looks of it," Zariyana sinisterly smiled. "It would seem this one is more attracted to him."

The female Legend's twin tact and lack of modesty in this situation was going to work well against Rayne's noble intentions. Before he could even raise a word in defense, the draenei curiously mulled over her brother's previous statement.

"Bedfellow?" Pondered Ademski. He mused over the word for a few moments, attempting to decipher it's true meaning. When he was unable to find a proper definition, he turned to his wife and casually asked her for clarification. "Did Templar consummate with this this young one as well?"

Lorelei's expression waded and snapped. Her face turned redder than the tabards of the Scarlet Onslaught. She immediately turned and dove behind Rayne, clutching his arm, and burying her head into his back to spare everyone the indignity of looking at her embarrassing figure.

"No!" The paladin defended waving his arm frantically despite the young elf still clinging to him and hiding her shameful expression from view. "Absolutely not! That's not what he –"

"You told them?" The young elf mawkishly asked. "About the plaguelands? When you stripped me –"

"NO!" Shouted Rayne hysterically trying to calm everyone's spiraling imaginations about what they believe happened versus the actual truth. The paladin couldn't recall a time he'd been more flustered. He also couldn't remember when there were two others mutually competing for his affection standing this close together.

From the edge of his vision, Rayne sensed the night elf's inquisitive glare bearing down upon him. The paladin remembered telling Narula everything that transpired between him and Lorelei. However, he may have forgotten to mention one crucial detail. The night elf's eyes cut right through him. He begged her through his humble gaze to listen to reason and that this was all a misunderstanding. Somehow, as she casually approached him with powerful and calculated steps, the paladin didn't sense his message got through to her.

"Raymond was merely sheltering her from the rain," Narula calmly defended. "And was worried she would catch a cold while recovering in all of that wet armor."

She wrapped her arm around the paladin and graciously rested her delicate head next to his.

"Isn't that right, my love?"

Rayne's heart lifted. The night elf was able to infer all that through just a mere gesture. It made him delighted to know that the bond they shared had grown even larger. Before he could bask in that glorious sentiment, a sharp pain ignited in his bicep. Narula was imploring that the paladin answer his question through subtle means less the suspicion amongst the others continues to grow.

"R-right!" The paladin smiled. "Nothing happened between us. I swear. Tell them, Lorelei."

The young elf slowly pushed herself away from Rayne's back. All of the swelling redness had subsided. Lorelei looked up at him with a delicate smile before her expression dropped to feature an abhorrent frown.

"And let you off the hook after ravaging a young maiden's body while she slept," the young elf scoffed and crossed her arms in disgust. "I'm still not entirely over that, you know. Nice try, you lech."

The paladin's jaw dropped. His eyes expanded nearly outside the confines of his skull. Just when he thought he was in the clear, Lorelei had transcended past her and brought back the spunky and inquisitive young spirit he had come to originally know. Rayne was initially delighted but deeply dismayed that this newfound change had to come at the expense of his own dignity and honor.

Marcus erupted in a gout of uproarious laughter. Everyone's attention was soon focused on the reeling warrior as he struggled to maintain any semblance of composure.

"This girl's got balls!" He jeered barely able to keep himself standing. "I've never seen the kid so flustered. Please tell me you have more!"

"I can find out everything she knows and keep the rest of them from learning anything else boss," Weasel added. "For a nominal fee of course."

The paladin collapsed his face into the cold embrace of his gauntlet. He prayed for this nightmare to end soon. His heart nor conscious couldn't take any more abuse. Perhaps this was the price Rayne was forced to pay in order to bring everyone together. Rarely did he ever see everyone in such good spirits. Even Narula was coming out of her own shell and showing sides of herself that not even the paladin was honored to bear witness too.

While the other Knights continued to jest, Cayden broke the mood with a series of abrupt and loud coughs. All eyes slowly fell upon him. The mage gulped but soon regained his composure.

"My name is Cayden Melton. As the former newest and youngest member of this guild," he began hoping not to falter over his words as he has done many times in the past. "Allow me to have the honor of introducing you to everyone."

The mage quickly offered the names and brief accolades of each of his companions. He spoke with the grace and confidence of a king though he didn't look much older than the young elf herself. Even Samuel seemed impressed in the manner of which he carried himself. After all of the introductions were completed, Cayden extended his hand and presented a warm and uplifting smile before Lorelei.

"Welcome to the Templar Knights."


	21. Chapter 20

_The Frostwing Halls_

 _Icecrown Citadel._

The sullen hallway was eerily quiet as the Templar Knights proceeded through the pathway. Crok Scourgebane and what was left of his Argent Crusaders had established a temporary encampment near the spire while they dressed the wounds of their soldiers and awaited reinforcements. Rayne led the way as they reached the place of the val'kyr's demise. Her fallen armor still laid scattered along ground. The paladin took extra caution as they turned the corner and proceeded down the next part of the hall.

A wide set of stairs led up to a massive opening. The paladin's eyes went wide as he immediately spotted a massive green dragon, Valithria Dreamwalker, imprisoned within. She was laying down flat upon her face barely able to move. Swirls of menacing dark energy encircled her frail form.

Rayne motioned for half of the knights to stand on one side of the opening on the right and the others to join towards the left. He took careful and methodical steps up the stairs. The thick plates of his armor were liable to make considerable noise if slapped together in haste. Everyone followed their leader's example and carefully encroached near the opening on opposing sides. Weasel inched ahead and lowered his goggles as did the paladin. They both tweaked the lenses to the zoom setting and carefully peered into the room.

The sickening sight before him began knotting up Rayne's stomach. Four liches standing in the perimeter channeled malevolent black energy. Crackles of radiant purple lights whipped off the dragon's body. Valithria winced every time though her movements were labored and slow. Whatever energy she had left within her must have been spent barely keeping herself alive. There is no way she was going to last much longer. They had to act fast.

"I only count four targets boss," the gnome confirmed. "Not getting much of a read on anything else nearby either."

The paladin peered along the edges of the room. A pair of large wrought iron cages decorated with skulls sat along the wall. Their bars were thick making it almost impossible to detect what lurked beyond.

"Are there a couple of caged doors on your side as well?" Rayne quietly asked.

The gnome nodded.

"Not sure what's in them though," he shrugged. "Maybe it's where the liches go to bed after their work is done?"

"Weasel!" Snapped Marcus in a delicate yet authoritative tone.

The gnome may have been speaking in jest but his observation may not be entirely off base. They had to take note of every intricate detail. There was no telling what horrors awaited them beyond this opening. The paladin wanted to be sure of everything before putting anyone's life at risk.

They continued to observe the liches' work for a few moments longer. The Templar Knight's presence had gone seemingly unnoticed for the time being. If they could keep it that way, it would help ensure a smooth dispatching of these supposed guards and aid in their planned rescue operation. The key to their success would rely on how quickly and quietly they could destroy these rotting minions. Thankfully, there were plenty of skilled operatives available to assist.

"We'll take them all at once," ordered the paladin. "Weasel, can you sneak across the right side and dispose of the southernmost lich?"

"Look who yer askin'," the gnome confidently shrugged. "

"Cayden," Rayne spoke turning towards the mage. "Can you handle the one on the other side?"

"I have a few unique spells at my disposal," he grinned before washing himself a sprinkling of arcane powder. In the blink of an eye, Cayden vanished entirely though the white clouds misting from his warm breath could still be seen. "It should not be a problem."

"Cheater," Weasel growled before descending into the room himself and blending amongst the nearby shadows.

"Saelena," the paladin called. "Stay a few steps behind and assist Cayden as well."

The hunter nodded. She took the rifle in her hands and slowly crept into the doorway hugging the wall the entire time. Even though the mage was invisible, she could still track his movements through the soft pattering of his steps as well has his carefully timed breaths.

"Lorelei," Rayne softly spoke. He addressed the young elf directly as he would any of his other Knights. "Follow Weasel and provide support."

Her green eyes widened but quickly went sharp. Lorelei was not being treated as if she were young, weak, or inexperienced. The young elf was standing amongst equals as a member of the Templar Knights. Her expression immediately lifted and after offering a stern nod, Lorelei readied an arrow and carefully tip-toed into the room trailing well behind the stealthy gnome.

The paladin tweaked his goggles to the threat assessment setting. He waited until confirming all of the other Knights were in position before issuing new orders.

"Marcus, Ademski," began Rayne. "Take the closest one on the right. Narula and eye will handle the other on the left."

"Roger that kid," the warrior grinned.

"Aye," nodded Ademski. "We shall send these mongrels back to the death they admire so much."

Finally, the paladin addressed the twin priests.

"Sam, Zari; pick a side and once we engage, stand between the front and back groups," he issued. "Try to stay as far back as possible. It'll be much easier to control to flow with you two watching over the rest of us. All four of them need to fall at the same time. We'll be relying on your eyes and ears to make that possible."

The male Legend twin acknowledged Rayne's request without so much as a word of defiance nor compliance. There was no need to be boisterous like the warrior and draenei before him. The paladin had created a simple but effective plan. Samuel was merely saving his breath for when it was truly needed.

"It shall be done," remarked Zariyana.

She looked at her brother and silently agreed upon which side to take. The male Legend twin made his way to the right side joining Marcus and Ademski while Zariyana stayed with the paladin and night elf.

Rayne took a deep breath. He carefully stuck his hand out and motioned towards the others inside that they were ready to begin. It was a good fifty feet between them and the first set of liches. As soon as the remaining Knights into the room, scourge agents would be immediately alerted to their presence. They would have to clear that distance quickly. If the Scourge caught wind of their predicament, they could attempt to flee and potentially alert others to their presence. The paladin hoped for the best but always planned for the worst.

"Ready?"

The remaining Knights nodded in agreement. Rayne loosened the straps of his shield and held it by the edges. He surveyed the room one more time before sharply nodding and signaling the okay to move ahead.

Saronite crunched underneath the heavy plate boots of the charging Knights. Despite being one of the fastest among them, Narula slowed her pace to stay behind the paladin. She thrust herself forward, morphing her hands and feet into paws brandishing sharp black claws and completing her transformation into the form of a swift puma. They hadn't gotten ten paces into the room before the two foremost liches were alerted and turned to face the intruders.

The paladin hollered, locking eyes with his target and flung the bulwark forward. It gleamed with magnificent golden radiance as it traveled. The night elf sprinted ahead, almost keeping pace with the projectile. Rayne's shield cracked the lich's chest. It exploded in a burst of divine energy. The lich reeled backwards screeching in pain as it stumbled. Rayne caught the Templar-crested barrier and affixed it over his arm. A rapid purple streak crossed the corner of his vision and raced towards the Scourge minion.

Narula leapt high into the air and pounced the undead creature. Her razor-sharp claws dug into the lich's bones, tearing through them as if they were made of cloth. The undead minion wailed maniacally as the puma continued to deliver swipe after deadly swipe across his boney hide. It was violently thrusted away as Narula kicked off its chest and flipped backwards into the air. Her form began to shift and the once rugged purple fur expanded into thick brown feathers. Just as she landed, Narula's mass increased to nearly triple its normal size as she transformed into the stoic moonkin and began channeling nature's unbridled wrath between her claws.

A crackle of black energy grew within the lich's palm. He may have suffered some heavy blows but the menacing undead minion was not down yet. The lich planted himself firmly before throwing his skeletal hand outward and unleashing a deadly volley of tainted daggers. Narula was not about to be outdone. She fired a torrent of glorious silver light forward in a concentrated beam. The two attacks collided in the center and erupted in a chaotic mist that nearly filled the northwest corner of the room in its entirety.

From the explosive mist of dissipating energy, the benevolent shield of the paladin emerged. Rayne hurled himself forward. The bulwark slammed against the lich's skull. Its bones cracked and tore from their magically imbued hinges. Dozens of teeth and jaw shrapnel splattered along the surface. The Scourge minion wailed once more with a coarse and morose tone.

Rayne spun around the vile creature and immediately pressed the shield along the lich's back while tightening his stance. From just above the crest of the steel barrier, he locked eyes with a charging brown bear that snarled intimidatingly as it ran. The paladin braced himself firmly against the undead minion. Narula's strength in this form was undeniably powerful. She dove forward and released one final intimidating roar before colliding directly into the lich's body.

Bones exploded in a flood of malicious fury. The paladin's greaves skidded across the surface nearly three whole feet before he stopped. His arms rattled catching the brunt of the night elf's charge. Rayne may have been shaken up a bit but the lich was not nearly as lucky. The Scourge minion's ghastly form was in shambles as piece of its rotting and boney structure littered the surrounding area.

The paladin took a moment to catch his breath before turning his attention to the other lich just a few paces away. Rayne immediately caught a terrible wave of flames headed right for him. He raised his shield and braced himself against the oncoming inferno. Despite the menacing look to it, the flames were barely warming than the mist of his own breath. It was odd to say the least, however, the paladin soon noticed a barrier of shimmering radiance encircling his entire body. Zariyana had already proven herself quick on the draw with her shields once before. Rayne couldn't have been more thankful that she was still as tactful as ever.

Once the flames evaporated, the paladin peered over his shield and found the next lich engulfed in blazing red tornado. It shrieked impishly as its robes, armor, and bones burned. Rifle shots ripped into the air. Saelena targeted the undead's arms and severed them clean off its frame. They fell harmlessly to the ground before disintegrating into a pile of cindered ashes.

"Nice work," smiled Rayne. "Are you two alright?"

The hunter gave a sharp nod while Cayden dismissed affluent fire atop the smoldering remnants of the lich.

"He put up quite the resistance," remarked the mage. "Still, nothing we couldn't handle."

"Handle?" The female priest chimed in. "Not by the looks of it. I thought you had more control over your spells Flame Brain."

"Hey!" Snapped the angered mage. "They were tougher than they look! I had to turn up everything I had –"

"And nearly roasted your guild master in the process."

Zariyana's harsh words quelled his tongue and anger in an instant.

"I'm –," stuttered Cayden as he embarrassingly tried to remedy the situation. "I'm sorry Rayne. I didn't –"

"It's alright," the paladin interrupted. He paid the priest a quick glance and winked. "Nothing Zari couldn't handle anyways."

The female priest returned a smug and satisfying gaze. Rayne almost wanted to laugh at how appropriate her response was but couldn't find it in him to express that thought. He stepped back quickly around the sullen dragon's body to assess how everyone else was fairing.

"How are the others –"

A sharp pain ignited in the paladin's spaulder. It dissipated fairly quickly but not before he instinctively yelped in response. Narula immediately shifted back to her ravishing night elf form and rushed to her beloved's side.

"Are you alright my - ?!"

"I'm fine," Rayne immediately cut in. "I don't even know what hit me."

The paladin's attention was turned downward to the rattling of bones near his feet. Staring back at him from the ground was the severed head of a lich. Its eyes had grown dim and no longer featured the same menacing gaze they once bolstered.

"Sorry kid!" Grinned the warrior.

Marcus and Ademski stood proudly over the beheaded lich. The draenei planted his blade into its spine before unleashing a blast of brilliant divine energy from its tip. All of the Scourge minion's bones evaporated in the powerful golden eruption leaving no trace of its hideous form behind.

"I did not expect his neck to be so fragile," Ademski commented. "Marcus barely grazed him."

"You must be more careful," the night elf scolded. "You could have seriously injured –"

"Right, right," dismissed Marcus. "I'll be sure to keep any more projectiles from flying into 'ol lady-killer's face from now on."

Rayne gulped and hoped the warrior's flippant words would be the end of that conversation. There was no need to press upon harrowing memories any further. Despite his initial misfortune, the paladin was pleased to see things going well. There was still one enemy remaining. The lich loomed forward with revolting dark energy channeling between its hands. Before they could even rush over to provide assistance, they were immediately cut off by the sharp orders of the male Legend twin.

"Weasel, your left!"

Samuel swept his hand across gleaming with holy light. A silver barricade sprang forth underneath the Scourge minion's body binding it in an array of golden chains. The lich did not appear deterred. It raised its maniacal hands upwards spewing a disturbing screech through its sharpened teeth.

A cloud of black powder enveloped the undead creature's skull. It writhed maniacally, choking upon the disgusting mist coating its face and eyes. The Scourge minion instinctively clutched its skull driving the channeled energy into itself. A pair of quickly timed arrows pierced its hands and drilled through each socket. With the power unchained, the lich's skull exploded in a fierce gush of black flames. Its body collapsed in heap of bones and armor devoid of any remnants of life once more.

"Yeesh," the gnome sighed dusting off the last traces of black lotus toxin from his hands. "Silver-locks is a real slave driver."

"And had you listened to my exact instructions," countered Samuel. "We would have ended this encounter approximately thirteen seconds sooner."

"Hey!" Weasel quickly defended. "If I'da known the pointy-eared kid over here was that good of a shot, I would have gladly listen to you drone on and on."

"What did you call me?"

The young elf approached while sheathing her bow. An annoyed expression was plastered atop her face and growing into something more threatening with each passing breath. Before she could continue voicing her displeasure, Rayne stepped in and offered some soothing words of his own.

"Good job Lorelei," the paladin complimented while sheathing his blade.

Blood was rushing into the young elf's cheeks. Her insides knotting up. She turned away while brushing the hair over her slender ear.

"T-thanks Rayne."

The paladin was a bit taken aback. Lorelei had been using his name as a slander up until a few moments ago and in the near blink of an eye, she had completely changed her tone and demeanor towards him. Hatred can be a powerful and compelling force. She may have been young but her experiences thus far would trump anything even the most seasoned adventurers have undertaken. Rayne was elated to know he was no longer hated, however, by the cherub look on the young elf's face, perhaps her previously buried emotions were starting to resurface. After everything he's went through to get to this point, the paladin wanted nothing more than to move on and pretend this did not exist.

A snapping of lights immediately grasped everyone's attention. The vile cage made up of dark energy surrounding the dragon had faded away. Valithria Dreamwalker was finally revealed before the Templar Knights. Hundreds of lacerations, gashes, and wounds covered her massive body. Parts of her flesh were barely held together by the meager strength of her damaged and severed bones. The dragon's breaths were meek and labored. It was as if any one of them could be there last.

They approached Valithria carefully. Her eyes slowly opened upon hearing their collective footsteps nearing her position.

"W-what," the dragon winced. She attempted to lift her massive head but could not find the strength to move past a few measly inches.. "What is happening? Where are –"

"Be still Valithria," the night elf calmed. She placed her gentle hand atop the bridge of Valithria's long nose. "My name is Narula Dawngrove. I am an emissary for the Cenarion Circle here on behalf of the Emerald Queen and Life-Binder. We have come to rescue you."

The dragon's panting increased. It appeared she was somewhat elated to hear the news but unable to properly express it.

"I – I am free?" Shuddered Valithria. "Is it over? Has the nightmare finally ended?"

Narula pulled her hand back. Her expression dimmed. A hint of anger swelled in her eyes. She cringed at the thought as her fists tightened.

"What have they done to you?"

The expression upon the dragon's face soured. Her voice cracked and her words became erratic and forced.

"The Lich King," she panted. "Corrupting the dream. Infecting it with the Scourge. Armies will invade."

The rumors were true. Alexstrasza and Ysera had been right to be concerned. The Lich King was planning to extend his taint beyond Azeroth. If he were allowed to continued, there would be no telling just how far the undead plague would reach.

"We need to get her out of here," the paladin sternly issued. "Valithria, can you –"

Rayne immediately stopped himself mid-sentence. The dragon was in no position to stand let alone walk or even fly. She barely even acknowledged the paladin's presence as turning her head proved to be too laborious to even attempt.

"We'll have to treat her wounds," he painfully admitted. Rayne turned to the twin priests. "Sam, Zari. Will you be able to heal Valithria?"

The male Legend twin took off his glasses and let out a heavy sigh while cleaning the lenses.

"She appears to be critically injured," answered Samuel. "There are too many wounds to count. Even with Narula's help, this level of treatment may be beyond our abilities."

"It would take serval hours," Zariyana sulked. "Perhaps even all day to restore her to full health."

Rayne's patience waned. They were standing in the midst of the Scourge's entire base of operations with thousands of their minions scurrying about. The armies of the Argent Crusade combined with the might of the Alliance and Horde were busy contending with them at this very moment but there was no telling just how many more were still looming nearby.

There was no time to waste and they had to act fast. This wasn't just about saving Valithria's life. The Templar Knights had staked theirs as well in order to spare Azeroth from a fate fare worse than death. The paladin knew this better than anyone. His mind was flooded with countless horrific scenarios. If they could be all stopped right here and now, then any cost would be worth it.

Rayne slowly reached for Light's Redemption. Before his fingers could even graze the hilt, his hand was caught by the night elf's. She squeezed it tightly and didn't even acknowledge him with so much as a single glance. Narula refused to allow the paladin to consider it as an option. She expressed through a simple touch of his hand what the others must have already known and considered just by the looks of their faces.

"Valithria," the night elf softly began. "Is there anything you can do to assist us?"

The dragon took a long and deep breath. A thick cloud of frozen mist blared from her nostrils. She was mustering all the strength that she could in order to assist these gracious heroes in her desperate time of need.

"I can… Open a portal to the Dream," uttered Valithria. "Enter it and you may be able to amplify your own strength."

"Enter the Emerald Dream?" The male Legend twin nearly gasped at the thought. "I've only studied brief accounts but from what I've read, only the most skilled druids have been able to walk through the portal let alone –"

"I shall be fine," the night elf interjected. "I have mediated there in the past. As long as I do not linger for too long, it will be adequate to assist us in supporting Valithria."

"Narula…"

The paladin looked upon his beloved with great concern. She squeezed his hand once more and stood stoically. Her expression was full of confidence. The night elf conveyed the extent of her feelings with a single gesture. Much like himself in the face of danger, Narula's heart did not waver. Rayne knew it wasn't his place to stand in her way. He wanted to be a rock, not a hindrance, and support the night elf whenever and wherever he could.

"Be care – "

"Intruders have breached the inner sanctum!"

That coarse and raspy voice echoed throughout the citadel. The paladin's heart snapped upon hearing that horrible grievous tone once more. He released his hand from Narula's and braced himself for the fearsome Lord of the Scourge to make his appearance.

"Holy shit…!" Marcus huffed. "It can't be?!"

"Arthas."

Rayne hissed that baleful name once more. The warrior was the only other member of the Templar Knights to experience the dreadfully sick words uttered by the Lich King himself.

"He knows we're here!" Shouted Marcus. He frantically scanned the area with the titansteel-forged mace tucked tightly into his chest. "Where -?!"

"Hasten the destruction of the green dragon," ordered the Lord of the Scourge. "Leave only bones and sinew for the reanimation!"

The warrior breathed a huge sigh of relief. Even after hearing that menacing warning, contending with the armies of the Scourge was a much better scenario that trying to fight that damned monster Arthas once more.

"Heroes, lend me your aid!" Valithria called. "I... I cannot hold them off much longer! You must heal my wounds!"

Rayne turned to face the dragon. A dreadful screeching cry echoed into the massive chamber. His eyes darted to find the source of the noise. Metal continued to squeal madly as all four wrought-iron doors of the room slowly began to open. The paladin's heart sank as dozens of undead horrors began rushing from the darkness, ready to bear down upon and fulfill their master's wishes.


	22. Chapter 21

_The Frostwing Halls_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

The frightening armies of the Scourge stood just beyond the slowly rising gates. Grievous skeletons, terrifying zombies, and even some more of those damned liches filled their ranks. The undead creatures clawed desperately at the iron cages begging for release. They had no sympathy or fear in their expressions. Only the flesh of the living could quell their growing hunger.

"Everyone!" Rayne commanded. "Spread out! At least two at each opening!"

There was no way they could contend with this many minions and protect Valithria at the same time. Unfortunately, that meant they would have to thin their own ranks. The paladin did not like taking this course of action but under the circumstance, they had little choice.

Mystical green energy cut into the atmosphere. It spread and widened until a blurry oval void came into view with shining emerald edges. The dragon channeled what strength she could spare and created the entrance she had promised.

"I have opened a portal into the Dream," called Valithria. "Your salvation lies within, heroes..."

The night elf wasted no time and immediately leapt through. She barely heard Rayne calling out to her before disappearing from sight entirely.

"Narula!"

His gauntlets clenched. The paladin didn't even have a moment to at least bid her good fortune. As powerful as the night elf was, this was not a job for her to undertake on her own. Narula was going to need all of the help she could get.

"Sam!" The paladin yelled. He launched his hand outward and pointed at the open portal. "Go with her!"

The male Legend twin's face was stained in shock and protest.

"But –"

"Do it!"

Rayne's voice was filled with malice. Questioning his orders now was not in anyone's best interest. The Scourge forces were moments away from bearing down atop them all. There was no time left to waste; not even to placate the priest's ample concerns.

There was a deceptive ulterior motive to the paladin's orders. He knew better than anyone that Narula would try to exert herself in order to fulfill her duty. She was just like him in that regards. However, Samuel's presence will not only aid in restoring the dragon's vitality but also, keep the night elf grounded and potentially save her from attempting anything too drastic.

The male Legend twin nodded and rushed into the portal. His simmering white and black robes faded from sight in an instant. Valithria took one final breath before closing it altogether. She needed to reserve her strength as best as she could. At the very least, Narula and Samuel were safer in there than they were out here. Now the paladin just needed to ensure it.

"Zari!" Shouted Rayne. His voice cracked as desperation quickly swelled over him. The cages were nearly completely opened. They were almost out of time. "We'll need a barrier over Valithria! Stand behind me and create a shield that covers her completely!"

"I've never created one so massive before!" The female priest fired back. "I don't think I –"

The paladin stood next to her and placed his hand atop her delicate shoulder. He peered deeply into Zariyana's golden eyes. His expression relaxed. Even through the thick lenses of his engineering goggles, Rayne was easily able to convey his feelings.

"You're the only one who can," he spoke. His words were strong and poised. "I believe in you."

Her golden eyes softened. She nearly melted in his grip before a stoic expression washed over her. The female Legend twin clutched her staff and nodded in agreement. She took a position near the dragon's sullen head and began channeling an incredible pool of divine energy from the very deaths of her soul.

Wicked cries filled the chamber. The iron doors had fully opened and the undead creatures poured into the room. Their revolting stench permeated the air as they raced forward, collapsing in on the Knights and dragon. The paladin immediately seized the blade of the Templar and released it from its scabbard. Ademski and Saelena held the ground on the further end near the northeast corner. Cayden and Weasel braced themselves on the opposing side along the southeast corner. That just left Marcus, Lorelei, Zariyana and Rayne himself to protect Valithria on the western side closest to the entrance. The back gate of the chamber was completely shut leaving them seemingly trapped in here as the foul minions loomed upon them.

"Stand fast!" Cried Rayne as the Scourge approached. He had never seen so many of these foul minions in such a small enclosed space before. There appeared to be no end to them. The paladin stood defensively and issued one final command to his Knights. "They cannot get passed us!"

Light swelled within the blade of the Templar. Rayne conjured up all of the divine strength his body could muster and funneled it through his weapon.

"Not. A single. One!"

The paladin lifted his greave. His scorched lungs roared as the fired off a tremendous shout. Rayne slammed his armored boot to the ground. Saronite quaked underneath the blow. Bursts of golden light seeped through the crack and spread like wildfire. The paladin put nearly everything he had into this opening salvo. His consecration spread nearly fifty feet wide which was more than enough to cover Valthria from the front half of her body but barely managed to encompass the room's width by even a third.

Haunting wails soon filled the air. The charging undead horde cried out in agony as their bodies burned underneath the unhinged radiance of divine energy. Their movements slowed which allowed Rayne and Marcus to charge ahead and meet up with the Scourge minions before they took another step closer.

The blade of the Templar easily sliced through the decayed flesh of the first creeping creature. Splatters of green ooze painted the surrounding area. One may have fallen but there were a dozen more still begrudgingly moving in on the paladin's position. He could not even revel in satisfaction of his work. There was still much to be done.

Chunks of decayed flesh quickly rose into the air. The warrior slung his mace from side to side without any regard for who dared to stand before him. He threw caution to the wind along with more cracked bones and severed skulls. The sickening crunch of devastated undead minions was second only to Marcus' commanding cries with each and every swing. Before they knew it, half of the approaching undead minions lay in waste along the filthy floor of the citadel.

Rayne breathed heavily as his gleaming blade continued to rend creature after rotting creature. He could sense his strength diminishing after each strike. There hadn't been a moment to rest since they breached this fortress. They couldn't afford to let up for even an inch. Should one of them falter, the only thing that would await them would be dark and eternal unrest. That was the absolute last thing the paladin wished for any of his companions here, now, or ever.

Behind the first wave of ghouls, a hulking mass of grey and purple slugged its way forward. Acidic boils festered and popped along it's rotten hide. Rayne slammed his shield into the final ghoul standing before him. He commanded a burst of holy light from the tip of his blade and shaped it into a gleaming mace. The paladin shouted mightily has he hurled the hammer forward. Golden lights exploded on the point of impact. Rayne intuitively raised his shield, protecting himself from the oncoming decomposed debris.

An eerie hissing sound emanated from beyond the shield. Plumes of smoke rose along the Templar-crested barrier. It was just as the paladin had suspected. Those hulking zombies were filled with acidic blood. The foul creatures were unlike anything Rayne had every witnessed. Clearly, the Lich King saved his most dreaded horrors to protect this fortress.

The zombie's short life proved to be an ample distraction. A chilling risen archmage stood in the backfield. Purple cloth robes adorned with blue gems and trimmed in gold hung from its waist leaving the remains of its skeletal structure armored only with a pair of encircling chains. While the paladin and warrior dealt with the initial fodder, this opportunistic creature had nearly completed channeling its deadly spell and was well within range to attack any one of them without hindrance.

Rayne sprinted forward. He had to stop the minion's attack before it could be launched. The paladin pressed his shield in front of him as the risen archmagi unleashed a bolt of chaotic black energy. Rayne braced for impact. His heart immediately sank as the spell blitzed overhead. The creature's attack was not aimed at him but at the battered and abused dragon they desperately tried to protect.

A fountain of lights erupted into the air. Trickles of glistening golden energy rained down upon the surrounding area. The paladin's resolve remained firm as the risen arcmage's spell dissipated harmlessly atop the magnificent radiant dome surrounding Valithria.

The gleaming font of energy was a sight to behold. Zariyana stood resolutely near the dragon's head with her hands held high. Divine energy seeped through her palms and channeled the remarkable spell. A trickle of sweat fell from her silver brown and rushed down her cheek. The female priest cringed as bolt after bolt of abhorrent energy bounced off her golden barrier. She gritted her teeth after every single one. Creating this impressive spell was a feat in and of itself. Maintaining it would prove to be a challenge that someone of even Zariyana's impressive skill would not be able to conquer.

Rayne turned his attention towards the risen archmage. He slid his shield down the gauntlet and caught the edge with his fingers just before it hit the ground. As he prepared to hurl it forward, a volley of arrows struck the undead's boney frame. The young elf fired off each shot in quick succession. Her brow furrowed as each released projectile was aimed carefully and sternly. It was as if the threat of death swarming around them was merely a suggestion.

The archmage shrieked as a final arrow pierced its skull. Bones collapsed atop one another as its form crumbled. The paladin was impressed at not only her skill but her keen ability to stay calm under this immense pressure.

"Lorelei!" Rayne frantically called. "Focus the archamages! We'll handle everything –"

A pair of towering masses of inferno approaching from the southern side of the chamber stopped the paladin's words cold. These undead creatures were covered from head to toe in flames. Some minor trinkets and damaged pieces of armor hung along their thin bodies. These appeared to be soldier-class minions of the Scourge but their appearance was far more intimidating than any of the others prior.

The warrior wasn't threatened in the slightest. He engaged the creature with a grimacing scowl plastered upon his face.

"Tell that walking matchstick to cool it with the fire!" Marcus growled as he battered the approaching skeleton with the business end of his weapon. Fragments of its skull snapped from the weight of the warrior's colossal blow.

The paladin braced himself as the raging inferno of bones and armor ran towards him. Every single cinder that engulfed its body was twisted and orange almost as if they were natural and not magical in nature.

"Those aren't Cayden's flames!" Rayne shouted while hurling his shield forward. "Don't let them get close to you!"

Bones cracked as the bulwark slammed into both creatures' haggard frame. The skeletons reeled before erupting in a sinister explosion spraying chunks of its former self across the room. Bits of burning undead fragments bounced off the paladin's returning shield. Thankfully, the frigid air surrounding this place quelled the flames quickly.

The rest of the Knights continued to uphold their resistance. Ademski batted off wave after wave of ghouls with a single massive swing of his two-handed blade. An arc of severed corpse littered the ground before him. Any minion lucky enough to avoid his attacks were quickly met with a well-timed bullet from his diligent wife. Saelena had laid traps all along the eastern edge of the golden barrier. Outlying Scourge minions that managed to sneak by were quickly ensnared and disposed of before they could lay a hand against any one of them let along the injured dragon they fought to protect.

Cayden and Weasel were handling themselves quite well on the opposing side. The two had rarely taken on an encounter as a lone pair but upon inspection, it would appear as if their partnership spanned decades. Frigid bolts of ice flew from the mage's hands and exploded into the center of each undead minion in their proximity. The mage was not trying to take them down outright; he was merely tagging each one and slowing them down. A black blur raced behind the Scourge forces. The gnome swiped his blade across their exposed necks, completely severing what little fibers held them together, and spilling their collective skulls along the ground. These creatures were already slow enough as is but with Cayden's breadth of frost spells chilling their movements even further, it was easy pickings for the seasoned assassin.

Deafening footsteps loomed ahead. The entire chamber seemed shudder underneath its might. Rayne turned immediately towards the origin of the sound. His mind snapped and arm worked on instinct to raise his bulwark. The paladin's body trembled in agony as a devastating axe swept downwards and slammed into his shield. Rayne was instantly launched backwards. His legs could not contain the awesome power unleashed before him.

The paladin landed violently upon the ground inches away from the radiant barrier protecting the dragon. His head cracked against the hardened saronite surface. Trickles of black clouds crept upon his vision. A terrible ringing plagued his ears. Rayne struggled to lift his head. All of the crying nerves along his back demanded his full attention. He dismissed their pleas and looked forward.

A gluttonous mass of stitched flesh and hulking muscles emerged several yards away. The abomination stood over twelve feet tall and brandished malicious weapons in each of its biologically defaming appendages. Its entire midsection had been severed with several thick bones protruding along the edges. An effort was made to seal the wound with a strip of dull steel but that didn't stop its blood-drenched organs from spilling out.

"Rayne!"

The frantic cries above snapped at the paladin's attention. He looked up and saw the female Legend twin baring down a mortified look of sheer dread.

"Are you alright?!"

Rayne slowly picked himself off the ground. Try as he might, his muscles seemed to ignore any command given. It was as if his entire strength had been sapped away in one single blow. The paladin pulled himself to a knee and looked ahead. As much as he wanted to placate Zariyana's concern, he couldn't take his eyes off the abomination and the fierce warrior than ran to engage it. Marcus was skilled but wasn't going to be able to handle it on his own. Rayne rose from his knee and clutched his blade tightly.

Trickles of crimson fluid painted the paladin's neck. He reached up and touched the back of his skull. His fingers were soon coated in freshly spewed blood. The itch clawing at his head was quickly growing numb as adrenaline surged through Rayne's body. There was no telling how long they would be able to keep this up. The paladin uttered a prayer before rushing to engage hoping that his beloved was fairing much better and would soon return.

 _The Emerald Dream_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

A lingering hiss filled the air. Drones of tight hums danced along the priest's skin. The world had melded into a chaotic blur. Gone were the approaching armies of undead monsters. The sounds of combat had faded entirely. Everything in this realm appeared renewed and restored as if never graced with the vile touch of the Scourge.

The most astounding sight of them all was the seemingly dead dragon herself. Valithria floated in the center of the room, flapping her massive wings looking no worse for wear. Her flesh was radiant and unscarred. It was almost as if she had teleported them to another plane in time where the dragon had never succumbed to the Lich King's gross experiments.

"Fascinating," the male Legend twin uttered.

This was a place ripe for a studious mind to completely lose himself. No other human in existence may have witnessed let alone experienced what Samuel was nearly drowning in. The atmosphere was thick and muddled. His lungs continued to drink the surrounding air and yet, didn't appear to need any.

The priest braced himself as his body was thrusted upwards. Gravity appeared to be a law for other realms. Here, it was merely a suggestion. Samuel levitated and explored area with newfound passion and curiosity.

"I cannot believe what I'm seeing," he surprisingly gasped. "What kind of power –"

His words were instantly cut off by the massive constricting force collapsing all around him. The male Legend twin's skin began to burn. His eyes watered and blurred his vision even further over the messy field surrounding him. The ambient air wrapped around every inch of his body and began to choke him like a formless anaconda.

"What is happening to me?!" Samuel croaked. He clutched his throat and desperately tried to free himself from its deadly grasp. "Narula?!"

"You must calm down Samuel," the night elf graciously spoke. Her words echoed with a soothing touch. "Focus on the rhythm of your heartbeat and find me."

The priest looked ahead seeking the source of her gentle voice. Narula was kneeling directly before the mighty dragon. She sat upon her knees in the dead center of the room as if resting atop an invisible platform. The druid's eyes were clasped shut as she continued to concentrate.

This was not the time for admiration. Samuel did as instructed. He dismissed all outlying thoughts aside whether it be pain or concern. The rapid thumps of his hearts clawed at his attention. Beat after beat, the male Legend twin counted each one. It was the only thing keeping him sane in this lawless and chaotic world.

After a few moments, the tight grasp along Samuel's skin waned. He soon regained control of his body but continued to mentally track every time his heart bounced. That was a horrific experience he did not soon wish to relive and prayed that it was but a simple bump in an otherwise clear and prosperous road.

"What is going on?" The priest called as he launched himself closer towards Narula. He tried to focus on controlling his body's movements but no matter how much he concentrated, Samuel continue to sway from side to side unable to suppress the lingering itch. "Why does it feel like my body wants to implode?"

The night elf winced. She was so deep in thought the very notion of speaking proved to be extremely laborious. However, Narula steeled herself and pressed on to aid her ally.

"All of the power is attempting to ignite at once," she implored. "If you are not careful, you will be consumed by it."

"This is the power lying within this realm?!"

Samuel was stunned. He never thought such incredible strength lied within this forbidden area. The druids were right to keep it hidden as well as protected. Should it fall to the Lich King, there is no telling just how truly frightening he will become.

Nerves ignited within the priest's core. He could feel his body contorting as if being wrung like a cloth. Samuel continued to drive all of his attention on his heartbeat. He struggled to find the balance the night elf demonstrated.

"How are you cultivating this energy?" The male Legend twin flinched. His arms started convulsing and keeping them still took every ounce of strength within him. "My body does not appear to be handling it as well as you."

"That is not the Dream's power, it is your own," corrected Narula. "Your energy is no longer bound by the shackles of reality. It is amplified by this realm and attempting to free itself from the confines within you."

The priest winced once more. He slowly dragged both arms across his chest and folded them atop one another. This helped keep him still as well as direct his attention back to the rapidly increased beating in his chest.

"It is as if every fiber of my being wishes to explode," he groaned. "How can one contain such immense strength bursting forth?"

"Concentration," she instructed. "Meditate on your surroundings. Allow the commune of nature to slowly envelop you and give you the strength to command this power."

The Emerald Dream was Azeroth as it should be devoid of all intelligent live. Narula had intrinsic link with nature itself free from all of the turmoil and despair brought about by mindless battles and despicable wars. She could hear the spirits calling out to her. Their words tickled her long ears with a tender touch. Her pores continued to soak in their benevolent power. Druids were required to sleep in the dream in order to foster and embrace the world which they have vowed themselves to protect. This ancient realm was the key to their world-renowned strength.

Samuel took another deep breath. His legs lifted and folded atop one another in a sitting position. The priest's perseverance was starting to pay off. Benevolent tingles trickled along his flesh. Radiance began to swell within him. All of his previous worries appeared to have melted away.

"I can feel it," cheered the priest.

The light he commanded grew tenfold and yet, he felt as if he was getting lighter with each timed breath. Samuel drank in this renewed vigor with open arms. Each and every huff of air grew heavier. After a few more moments, the strenuous efforts began taxing upon his conscious. His mind began falling into a haze. All of his thoughts trickling into a pond of desolation. He would lose himself entirely if this kept up.

"How much longer?" The priest rasped.

Narula's eyes snapped open. They had spent adequate time here to cultivate and channel their energy. She focused every prevailing thought on tuning the massive power within her into the font of restoration. Bolts of green light snapped along her arms.

"It is time Valithria!" The night elf shouted. "We must go!"

The dragon nodded. Emerald energy crackled into the air as a new portal opened. Narula immediately stepped through. Without being able to see what was going on beyond this realm, she prayed that they were not too late.

 _The Frostwing Halls_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

Gallons of green goop spat from the freshly severed wound across the abomination's ribs. The paladin's longsword cut deeply along it's gluttonous frame and rended its hideous flesh. Marcus immediately followed up with a devastating swing into the hulking undead's abdomen. A geyser of blood erupted from the point of impact coating Rayne and his ally in a splatter of crimson fluids.

The abomination roared in defiance. It reeled backwards taking several clunky steps while continuing its agonizing shout. An arrow silenced the hulking monster's cries, piercing it through the roof of its mouth and protracting out the back of its pink skull. The undead horror fell backwards. Its massive body quaked the ground upon landing.

"Raymond!"

All of the paladin's attention snapped backwards. He continued to breath heavily while searching for his beloved night elf. Narula stood underneath the gleaming dome of radiance almost exactly where she departed with the male Legend twin just behind her.

"Narula!" Shouted Rayne. His tone was both anxious and elated. While the night elf and priest looked no worse for wear, he feared what would have happened if they stayed any longer. Still, he couldn't help himself from showing that concern. "Thank the light! Are you alright?"

The night elf sternly nodded. She immediately directed Samuel towards the other side of the dragon and began their dire task. Narula threw her hands into the air. Streams of green light emanated from her palms as she channeled the genial energy. Mists of nature's grace illuminated the area. A massive jade circle appeared underneath Valithria's battered body. Wisps began harmoniously singing all at once as they rose from the ground. They dove into the dragon's body, spilling their benevolent forms and washing over her body with gouts of restorative grace.

Divine light exploded from the priest hands. Samuel howled has he channeled the golden beams across the dragon's flesh. The entire northern portion of the room illuminated brilliantly in the wake of this awesome display of power. His fingers trembled simply trying to contain it. Golden energy shined through his eyes as he continued pouring the dynamic holy light atop the emerald creature.

The deep gashes and deadly wounds across Valithria's scales slowly began to seal. Her body and spirits lifted. The renewal of energy had seemed to destroy her once sulking mood in its entirety.

"My strength is returning!" She gloriously announced. "Press on, heroes!"

As the healing began, the paladin took the precious moments he had to survey the rest of the battlefield. The other Knights seemed to be faring well. Most of the undead horde had been dispatched. Only a few outliers remained near the edges of the room. They too were defeated in quick succession by the eager mage and equally deadly hunter.

Hard breaths continued to pump out of Rayne's tired lungs. The chaotic battle certainly took its toll on everyone. He could even hear the winded coughs of the warrior standing next to him. The Templar Knights had taken on a large contingent of some of the Lich King's finest minions and prevailed. This would normally be cause for celebration but until the dragon stood on her own feet, the paladin refrained from expressing any joyful sentiments just yet.

"Sam! Narula!" Rayne called yelling as loud has his throat would allow. "How's she doing?!"

"We still need more time!" Beckoned Samuel. "The power, it's waning! We need to –"

Repulsive howls echoed into the chamber. Saronite trembled in all directions. The room quaked underneath the weight of the massive footsteps beyond each open gate. Ghouls, skeletons, zombies, and more hideous undead monsters poured through the darkness with great haste.

The paladin's eyes shot wide. His longsword nearly slipped from his grasp upon seeing the new wave of undead minions swarming towards them. They were at least triple the size of the previous horde that attacked and they just barely managed to defeat those. Rayne's heart trembled at the very sight of them stampeding forward.

"NARULA!" Cried Rayne. His tone was filled with distress as he called out to her. The massing Scourge minions would soon be closing in on them. "Hurry!"

"It's not enough," the night elf winced. "I can't –"

Powerful green lights ripped into the atmosphere forming a thin circular shape. The path to the Dream was revealed through the blurry haze lying within.

"I have opened another portal heroes," the dragon signaled. "Return quickly and renew your strength once more!"

"Get out of here!" Ordered the paladin.

The undead minions loomed ahead. There was no time left for debate. Still, Narula could not help herself as she protested.

"But Ray – !"

"GO!" The paladin dismissed without so much as a look behind. "NOW!"

Samuel and the night elf couldn't return a single defiant word. They disappeared through the portal once more without another moment's hesitation. The paladin pressed his shield forward as a mass of ghouls collapsed all around him. They drove him back. His armored boots dragged along the ground sparking in defiance. Rayne swung his blade forward. Each strike was strong but wild. He gave no concern to his surroundings. The only thought that pressed through the paladin's mind was cutting down this malevolent horde, ghoul by gruesome ghoul.

Gouts of menacing black bolts flew in all directions. The risen archmages unleashed their vile fury towards the gleaming dome protecting Valithria. A pit grew in Rayne's stomach. He snapped his gaze and watched as they all struck the female Legend twin's golden barrier simultaneously.

"No…!"

Zariyana shrieked in torment. The collective blast of dreadful spells was proving to be too much for the priest to handle. She immediately fell to her knees. Sweat poured from her brow as if her silver hair carried a hidden waterfall underneath.

The light was beginning to thin along the radiant barrier. Lorelei tried to pick off the archmages as best as she could. For every one she managed to take down, a trio of ghouls rushed to strike her and the young elf was forced to reposition in order to contend and continue.

Sharp pain ignited in the paladin's ribs. Blood puked from beneath his breastplate. While Rayne's attention was diverted, a cunning ghoul swiped his menacing claw freely across the unguarded midsection. The paladin tucked in his blade arm in a vain attempt to seal the wound. He immediately blasted his shield outward, shattering the undead minion's skull in a blast of divine light. The direct threat may have been extinguished but there were still dozens more hoping to finish what their fallen ally had started.

Rayne continued to madly swing the blade of the Templar. He could no longer see past the waves of undead. They swarmed in all directions nearly filling the room in a sea of decayed flesh and rotting bones. How the other Knights were contending with this onslaught was unknown. The paladin begged the light to give him and the others the strength to get through this.

Relentless rage brimmed from the warrior's throat. He spun the titansteel-forged mace like a man possessed. The tornado of berserking fury crushed waves of Scourge minions that dared to approach. Marcus' greaves skidded as he stopped the twisting storm of steel. He cleared a decent enough path around him but there were still plenty more daunting adversaries standing in his way.

A blazing skeleton cut through the pact and engaged the warrior. Marcus grunted while taking a step back. Blinding anger had taken over him. The previous warnings of this creature's strength were ignored. He swung the mace with an intimidating shout. Titansteel crushed the boney midsection of the fiery creature. It erupted in a chaotic inferno destroying dozens of ghouls standing around it. The warrior cringed as the roaring flames engulfed him entirely. His body was fiercely pelted with the shrapnel of the exploding creature and sadistically thrusted him upon the ground. Black patches of singed flesh emanated from the scorched wounds. Consciousness was slowly slipping from his grasp.

Rayne cringed as he watched the warrior fall before him. He didn't even have the luxury of calling out to Marcus as relentless undead minions swarmed all around. Thankfully, the number of risen archmages had dwindled but the few that remained continued raining down their sickening energy at the priest's massive shield. The paladin immediately shot a glance at Lorelei to see how she was fairing. It only served to widen the dank pit in his stomach.

The young elf had fallen back. She pressed herself along the waning barrier and continued to launch relentless arrows at the encroaching monsters. Lorelei's eyes soon shivered. She reached into her quiver and gasped when she found it empty. The bow was instantly tossed aside as she clutched the broadsword slung across her back. Her arms faltered upon taking the blade into her grip. The weapon was much heavier than she was used to wielding and with her previous strength depleted, the young elf could only carelessly swing the weapon in a clumsy arc before her.

Light started to fade beneath Rayne's feet. The concentrated area was fading rapidly. With no one left to stand against them, the Scourge pushed forward towards the weakening barrier and the two remaining Knights who defended it. There was nothing left to stop them now from tearing all three of them apart.

Desperation filled the paladin's expression along with a faint flicker of anger from beneath the lenses of his goggles. He cut down the remaining three ghouls before him with a frantic swing of his blade. Rayne used the channeled momentum and hurled his shield outward at the last two risen archmages. The bulwark cracked against their fearsome skulls, spilling chunks of bone in the wake of the radiant blast. He caught the shield immediately upon its return and raced towards the center of the room where the pursuing undead had managed to swarm and completely take over.

The paladin shouted tremendously as he drove his blade into the decaying masses. A thick barrier of rotting flesh separating him from the others. Rayne swung the longsword without finesses or remorse. He was acting completely on instinct, urgently fighting his way through these minions that blocked his path.

Lights flickered in the distance. The radiant dome summoned by the female Legend twin was dissipating. Trickles of divine energy evaporated into the air revealing the dragon it protected and exposing her to the oncoming Scourge threat.

Valithria cried out in terror horde of undead monsters swarmed over her. The hideous creatures clawed at her emerald flesh, tearing scales by the dozen and spilling the dragon's precious blood into the chamber.

"I will not last much longer!" She pleaded through painful shrieks.

Adrenaline surged through every vein beneath the paladin's skin. He was fueled by hysteria and anger. The blade of the Templar cut through every rotting ghoul that stood in his way. Rayne didn't pay any mind to the undead creatures standing beside him. He only struck down the ones that separated him from the priest and young elf.

The paladin's onslaught was merciless. He tore through the screeching masses refusing to stop until he reached the others. His longsword, on the other hand, was not as willing to submit itself to such unbound will. Metal pinged with a high-pitched squeal. The blade of the Templar stopped halfway through another deadly swing. It was caught by the ornamental white and gold staff held by the female Legend twin. In his mindless assault, Rayne hadn't even noticed most of the undead threatening them were now laying at their feet.

A great sense of elation swept over the paladin and buried the remaining fear and anger brimming through his eyes. Zariyana was hunched over beside Lorelei. They were both panting, barely able to stand at the near brink of exhaustion. The female Legend twin's weapon was firmly planted in the ground. She used it as a crutch to keep her from falling. Her robes were in disarray. The finely threaded fabrics that had bound them together were torn and scarred. Lorelei took a knee beside her. Mounds of filth and sweat coated her once pristine alabaster flesh.

"Zari!" Rayne perilously called. "Lorelei!"

"We're fine," the priest frantically dismissed through heavy breaths. "Thank goodness you –"

A patch of crimson grew from the female Legend twin's abdomen. She impulsively clutched it. Blood soaked through and stained her pristine cloth gloves.

"What?" She stammered staring at the sticky substance with bewilderment. "What is this?"

"No!" The paladin cringed. "Zari!"

The priest fell to her knees. Her staff crashed upon the ground and bounced with a lifeless thud. She continued to wince in agony as the pain took over all her. Throughout the entire harrowing encounter, Zariyana's adrenaline had soaked and ignored a single fatal blow from a rogue ghoul's deadly claw.

"Rayne…" She croaked as blood began filling her throat and spilling atop her lips. "I –"

"NO!"

Zariyana's golden eyes rolled as she collapsed forward. His arms reached out to catch her. A lethal mound of sharpened claws tore Rayne's attention and presence away. The remaining rotting creatures clasped at the back of the paladin's throat and dragged him atop the pile of corpses. The last thing he saw before becoming enveloped by the clutching grip of undeath was Lorelei's boundless tears horrifically spilling as she reached out to him.

Tremendous howls of agony filled the chamber. Rayne cried in sheer torment as dozens of sharpened claws began piercing his flesh. The stinking Scourge mob piled on top of him and began tearing through his armor and into the weak skin beneath. Their euphoric murmurs numbed his senses beyond the ongoing torture being inflicted upon him. The paladin tried raising his shield and blade. His arms did not contain the strength to throw this horde off of him. Both his weapon and shield were torn from his grasp. Not even the light would answer his pleas.

Pain continued to ignite upon his limbs and chest. It was as if they were trying to strip Rayne's skin from his bones. He had lost count of how many lacerations that penetrated through his armor or the number of new ones befalling him now. The paladin tried to protect his face of all things. A sharp claw snapped down upon his skull and cracked the lenses of his goggles. They whined in defiance before shutting down completely. Not even a master level tinkerer could craft a setting that would have shown him anything beyond the grey hunks of rotting flesh.

Rayne's strength was depleting. Darkness encroached his vision. He lost the will to yell even on instinct. Throughout their tirade of furious slashes, the Scourge minions' attacks appeared to be weakening. Perhaps the numbing touch of death had finally graced himself with its glorious presence.

A light pierced through the darkness. The paladin reached out, his hand now free and unencumbered by the reeking ghouls. His body was no longer succumbing to newfound misery. Rayne tried to clasp it and fully free himself from the lingering anguish. Even though he tried so frantically, the light before him was starting to fade.

Greyness swelled before the paladin. The adrenaline in his blood subsided. His mind snapped back at him as the vision returned to show him the reality that stood before him.

Ghouls shrieked as their bodies were grossly sliced into pieces. Lorelei stood atop the growing pile of corpses. She swung the broadsword with desperation, hacking down the remaining undead minions with furious abjection. Her howls reverberated into the massive chamber. The young elf destroyed every last Scourge fiend before her very eyes.

Boundless pain swelled over Rayne's nerves. His body had become ravaged. The once shining plates of his armor had been ripped, torn, and painted crimson. His mind convulsed not knowing which tormented plea to contend with first. However, it soon became afterthought as he reached for his fallen bulwark and blade. The paladin slowly picked himself off the rotting mound of corpses. His muscles shuddered with every pump of blood from his weakened heart that continued to spill his precious fluids through the countless gashes and wounds riddling his battered form. Every step was heavy a begrudging as he forced himself up and onto his feet.

"Rayne!" Lorelei shouted through painful breaths. "Are you al –"

The young elf's question was overtaken by a powerful shriek. An unseen horror slashed his fiendish claws across her exposed back. Her quiver shattered and blood vomited from the three symmetrical lacerations. The shining green lights in her eyes began to fade as she spilled forward. Her mouth was agape as she tumbled towards the paladin.

"LORELEI!"

Rayne caught her falling body and clutched her tightly into his chest with his shield arm. He gave out one last powerful roar before driving the blade of the Templar forward. The shining tip bore through the skeleton's skull. It screeched one final time before the red lights in its eyes dwindled. The minion spilled into a mess of bones and armor atop itself. All of the terror and horror it wrought now sat in a lifeless pile before them.

The iron doors along the sides of the room whined as they came crashing down. After a tumultuous battle against the undead, the sounds of combat had finally silenced. Lorelei trembled in the paladin's grip. She whimpered in pain as they slowly fell to their knees. Rayne held her close and surveyed the rest of the chamber through the cracked lenses of his broken goggles.

Terror immediately pierced his heart. The Templar Knights laid strewn about the room. Their clothing and armor were in tatters. Ademski fawned over the fallen body of his wife. He cradled her in his arms. Tears mixed with blood as he clutched Saelena closely, muttering something in his native tongue. Cayden's fiery robes were torn asunder. He used his staff as a walking stick and dragged himself forward. A deep cut in his thigh slowed the mage's pace. His leg was drenched in so much blood, it appeared as if it were still wrapped within the confines of his fiery cloth armor.

Panicked whines echoed from the southeast corner. Weasel painfully crawled forward. His black leather armor was riddled in deep scratches and severed bindings. The engineering goggles that once stood atop his eyes were missing. In its place, a trio of wicked lacerations covered his small face with a thick coat of blood. He reached out slowly, tapping the ground before him carefully as he inched closer towards everyone else.

"I can't see…" The gnome cried. His words were dire and desperate. It was difficult to ascertain whether it was the thick cake of crimson fluid atop his face or if his eyes had been truly ripped from their sockets. By the sound of his frantic pleas, it appeared to be both.

The paladin let out an exasperating cough. His remaining strength had fizzled away and Rayne could no longer even keep his arm up to hold the young elf close to him. Lorelei sensed his torment and frustration. She painfully pushed herself away from his clutches. The paladin fell back atop the cold ground. His entire body was wrecked in inexorable agony.

Though the forces of the undead had been defeated, the cost appeared to be too great. The Templar Knights were a mess of their former selves. They were battered, bruised, and bleakly clutching to what remained of their lives. Even Valithria was struggling to survive. All of the deep gashes and wounds once marred her regal form had returned with dozens more across her dirty emerald scales.

A single tear crept into the corner of Rayne's eye. A second soon another appeared and then another. He didn't want this to be how their story ended. This was beyond anything the paladin had ever imagined. The Templar Knights did not deserve this. Rayne clutched his longsword tightly and slowly pulled himself back up. As long as there was still air in his lungs, he promised to make this right no matter the cost.

"Templar…"

A bolt of dread struck the paladin's conscious. That same sickening voice that uttered in the deadly Scourge army upon them was not only calling upon them once more, he was aiming his words directly at Rayne.

"You dare to personally breach my citadel?" The Lich King continued. "How foolish."

The paladin rolled his body to the side. He laid upon his face and used what fickle strength remained to drive the blade into the Templar into the ground. Rayne braced himself the planted longsword as a crutch as he slowly pulled himself to a knee. His body quivered in anguish. Every nerve in his skin ignited in pain. Darkness crept along the edges of his eyes. His lungs seared with every meek breath. The paladin rested his heavy head atop the hilt of the weapon and shot his gaze towards the opening in the west where the sound emanated.

Fortunately, the Lord of the Scourge was nowhere to be found, however, his ominous words continued to echo throughout the chamber.

"I have longed for your return, _paladin_ ," hissed the Lich King. "Turning you will serve my purposes well. The light will no longer be your salvation. You will come to embrace the darkness just as _he_ has."

Rayne tried to push himself to his feet. His body was unresponsive. It took everything he had left just to stay kneeling. He was being taunted by this horrifying presence and didn't even have an ounce of strength left to even spit in defiance.

"Go my minions," the Lord of the Scourge commanded. "Bring me his corpse so that he may become my newest champion."

The paladin's heart wavered. His eyes widened tremendously as he stared beyond the opening. Dozens of frantic geists tore across the ground. They lead the pact, running on all fours and hungrily approached the chamber opening. A large force of ghouls and skeletons ran closely behind them. They spread so thickly that the hallway seemingly shrunk to contain their ghastly presence. There were almost a thousand undead minions compiling the dreaded undead horde that wildly advanced.

A booming shout quaked the citadel to its core. Heavy footsteps pounded across the saronite-forged walkway. At the very rear of the oncoming army of undeath, a massive abomination loomed. Its size easily dwarfed anything Rayne had ever seen before. Giant arms equipped with massive axes and hooks appeared thicker and more frightening than any other that preceded it. Even the tales of the legendary Patchwerk that patrolled the fortress of Naxxaramas seemed miniscule by comparison. The hulking brute stood at least thirty feet tall and by the looks of it, would barely fit through the opening.

The paladin's apprehension exploded. His Knights were in shambles and their mission would soon end in failure. Rayne didn't want to admit it but the Lich King was right. The light was not listening to his please. It continued to ignore him as the stench of death loomed closer beyond the corpse-laden chamber.


	23. Chapter 22

_The Frostwing Halls_

 _Icecrown Citatdel_

Powerful azure mists rose within the chamber. Their chilling touch rushed towards the opening. Chunks of deep blue ice quickly built upon the edges. All of the surrounding air froze in the blink of an eye. The haunting charge of the approaching Scourge army faded from sight. Tremors erupted from beyond as the rushing undead minions crashed into the conjured barrier.

The mage collapsed forward. His staff fell from his hands and tumbled alongside him. It crashed upon the ground with humble ferociousness. Cayden used the last of his strength to create a wall of ice to seal this room and the injured residents within. It had stopped the undead from gaining entry but it would not hold them back for much longer. The mage slipped into the darkness of unconsciousness hoping his final effort would not be in vain.

Hideous screeching continued to echo from just beyond. The Scourge minions clawed at the frozen barrier. Rayne could hear the ice cracking. Slowly but surely, it would break and they would all be fully exposed to their merciless wrath. The only thing louder was the sounds of his fallen companions' haunting cries continued to echo throughout the room.

"Saelena…." The draenei whimpered. "Saelena, no. Come back to me."

Ademski cuddled his wife's body closely into his chest. Out of all of Knights, he appeared to suffer the least physical wounds Unfortunately, holding Saelena's unmoving frame was a deadly scar that no mortal weapon could ever inflict nor holy power could ever heal. The draenei could not do anything but sulk. Everything he had ever fought to protect was slipping in his very grasp.

Heavy gouts of chilled air exhumed from the dragon's nostrils. Valithria drank in each and every one praying it would not be the last. The grievous wounds continued to plague her, both the old and the sordid new ones that were wrought upon her emerald scales that the Knights failed to prevent. Pools of her freshly spilled blood dripped from the freshly carved lacerations and stained the surrounding area.

The female Legend twin continued to excruciatingly pant. Never in her life had she felt a pain quite like this. She clutched the piercing wound in her stomach gravely trying to stop the bleeding. Zariyana had expended all of her energy projecting and channeling the barrier. There was none left to spare to even save herself.

Marcus laid flat on his back. His breathing was irregular and weak. The scars from his previous wound continued plague him. Darkness consumed his very being. The warrior was barely clinging to life. A single slip would spell certain doom as death was looming ever so closely.

High pitched whines and squeals continued to slip through the gnome's tongue. He frantically scoured the area on his hands and knees. Weasel's eyes were soaked in blood. A blind assassin that could not be counted on to hit his target no matter how good his skill was. Whatever sick wound the undead struck upon him may have but it took away the one thing he cherished just as much, if not more than the gold he worshiped.

The blade of the Templar quivered in the paladin's grip. It remained planted into the hardened saronite surface. Rayne kept his forehead pressed against the reeling hilt. Every last bit of energy he had was barely enough to allow him to remaining kneeling. His entire body convulsed and shook erratically. All of his nerves hollered from the countless wounds painfully begging to be restored to their former glory. The paladin's shimmering silver armor was marred, torn, and drenched in blood. It continued to seep through the cracks and gashes made by the undead's remorseless assault on him prior. Even breathing proved to be a taxing effort. Each and every huff of air ripped from his lungs quickly and brought with it a harsh burn that almost made the effort not worth the cost. He couldn't even keep his eyes open. They remain slammed shut against the cringing grip of torment. Not even a single tear could break through.

"Rayne…"

Steel scraped along the sullen ground. Lorelei dragged the broadsword as she walked. Its weight was too heavy to lift any longer. The young elf's strength had been tapped to its very brink. She stumbled towards the paladin taking slow and aching steps. The three cuts in her back were deep, drizzling blood down her backside and legs. Lorelei fell to her knees beside him and before the hundreds of their revolting Scourge corpses lay strewn about the room. While surviving this long in the heart of the Lich King's fortress was a grand achievement, it paled in comparison to the thousand more hungry undead creatures just outside starved for fresh flesh.

"Lorelei," wheezed Rayne. His voice was coarse and weak. With every panting breath he drew his body quivered in agony. "I'm – I'm sorry."

He continued to meekly apologize while cringing atop the Templar-crested hilt. Rayne could not even remove himself from it let alone look the young elf in her eyes as he confessed.

"I'm sorry," the paladin huffed. "Sorry for dragging you into this. Sorry for everything –"

"What…?!"

Lorelei's tone was harsh. She inched closer towards Rayne still muttering minor obscenities under her breath.

"How… How can you say that?!"

There was nothing left within Rayne to even try and mumble a defense. Anything he could say would fall on deaf ears. When the young elf's temper flared, it required a lot of care and attention to calm her down, both of which the paladin had nothing left to spare.

"We – we can't give up!" She pleaded. "We have to –"

Lorelei winced in pain ceasing her protest from continuing. Her wounds were screaming louder than she could bear to overcome. The extra effort it took to fuel her anger was more than she could handle.

No more words left Rayne's lips. He was too tired to argue this any further. The young elf may have had a decent argument but she was grossly overestimating their position. It was not that they were giving up, it was the saddening fact that the paladin and others simply lacked the strength continue. All of his remaining energy was being depleted to just keep kneeling. The other Knights were worse off if not fully succumbed to the bitter taste of death already. In fact, the only two left that were seemingly unharmed were not even in this realm of existence.

Narula and Samuel continued to reside in the Dream. They were still cultivating the power necessary to heal Valithria but that seemed like a such a fleeting and foolish thought now. Even if they showed up this instant, there was little they could do change their gruesome fate. All things considering, Rayne prayed that they stayed there until this mess had ended. At least they would be spared the horrendous suffering that awaited the rest of them.

The frozen barrier started to crack. Chips of shattered ice spilled into the room. There wasn't much time left. Their gruesome destiny lingered just beyond the chamber. In mere moments, this terrible nightmare would end only for a horrific new one to emerge in its place. The paladin cursed himself for ever crossing the Lich King and putting his beloved and all of his friends at risk to serve in eternal unrest. That disgusting thought continued to rifle through his conscious. They didn't deserve that. They deserved something far greater; they _deserved_ someone better.

"Please…" Lorelei begged. "I can't – I can't do this again."

Tears pulsed in her lush green eyes. They fell from her grime-infested cheeks and plopped upon the ground.

"I can't lose you too."

The young elf's sobs brought about tears of his own. Rayne didn't want things to end this way. He would give every breath in his body in order to spare his and all his loved ones from the wretched fate that awaited him. Countless times he's harbored these thoughts. Never for a moment did he even consider a situation where all that he had left was not enough to pay.

"Not like this," she sobbed. "I won't let you."

A puddle of tears soaked between them. Lorelei slowly stood up and braced herself beside the paladin's armored appendage. She carefully wrapped her slender arms around him. The young elf grimaced as she tried to lift Rayne up. His body was tired and heavy. Her efforts were in vain but it did not stop Lorelei front foolishly continuing.

"You never gave up on me!" The young elf howled through her clenched teeth. "You promised me, right?!"

Lorelei tried valiantly to pull the paladin up. His arm rocked back and forth with her haggard movements but Rayne would not budge. He wanted to support her, he wanted to protect her just as he had sworn. However, the energy required to live up to the burden was no longer within his grasp.

"You gave me something to live for!"

Faint tickles grazed the paladin's skin. His veins warmed and soon burned with a trickle of adrenaline. Confusion clouded his thoughts. Rayne was unsure as to what was going on but something far greater than himself was beckoning him to heed the young elf's pleas.

"Help me find yours!"

The paladin's heart thumped. Lorelei's words pierced it in a way he never thought possible. The answer had been in front of him all along. After everything that had happened, Rayne was just too scared to even consider it. The fleeting light that he thought was too far to reach was in now within his grasp.

"You still owe me an answer!" She panted. "Remember?!"

Throughout the burning of his nerves and the meek resolve that kept his heart beating, the paladin's mind drifted to a time that seemed ancient. Rayne sensed what was coming next. She had asked him the one question he never even pondered for himself. Now that certain death was imminent, the young elf was poised to have him hear it once more and finally give her the answer they both sought.

"What do you want to live for?!"

A wave of emotions swept over the paladin. Everything he desired stood before his tired eyes. Though his goggles were cracked and cloudy, he could see it as clear as day. Rayne pushed the blade of the Templar from his grip. It bounced atop the ground with a harmonious clang. He no longer needed the crutch. All of the strength he needed had been beside him the entire time.

"Tell me Raaaaaaaaaayne!"

The paladin gasped. He clasped the cloth protecting the warhammer clung to his waist and sprang to his feet. The silken sheet was torn from its head and he thrust the weapon high into the air with a triumphant roar. Shining wings made up of the light's benevolence sprang from his back spanning over twenty feet wide. The glorious symbol of the Alliance sat proudly in the center of the hammer in memory of its magnificent glory. Its tremendous strength had become fully unleashed within the confines of the undead fortress.

Icecrown Citadel trembled underneath the might of Light's Redemption. A wave of golden energy detonated from the warhammer with a magnitude that would level a mountain flat. Every wall in the chamber trembled as if being struck by the Titans themselves. The paladin continued to yell while funneling the brilliant grace of the benevolent light through the weapon. It washed into the room, bathing every inch with its soothing glow.

The warrior's eyes shot open. They beamed with a powerful golden shine. He pulled himself up from the ground. The sharp burns and callous wounds wrought across his skin started to fade. All of fatigue hounding his muscles and bones had evaporated. Marcus' strength was not only fully restored but multiplied beyond all comprehension.

"What the hell…?"

Gleaming lights continued to radiate off the warrior's skin. His pours were infused by the bursting energy raining down all around him. Marcus sensed himself growing light. Gravity's grip on his body had loosened. Even the titantsteel-forged mace he so proudly wielded sat in his hands with the weight of a thin dagger.

"Saelena?!"

Ademski continued to tenderly hold his wife as she slowly started to move. The hunter was just as enthralled to what they were both bearing witness to. A thick lump entered her throat. Saelena's eye's widened. Tears gathered in the corners as she reached out and lovingly stroked the draenei's cheek.

"My darling…"

The Naaru themselves have never sounded so angelic. Panic struck his chest followed by an immediate sense of elation. He could barely find the words to express himself.

"It cannot be?!" He stammered. "Your voice? How?!"

The hunter's mouth glistened with golden energy. Though her tongue may not have been fully restored, the light had sought fit to bequeath Saelena and her husband something they had both sorely missed.

From the brink of darkness, the Templar Knights grasped the welcoming light and slowly started to rise. Golden radiance shined from within their eyes. Their bodies swelled with vigor. They gathered together around their boisterous leader. Rayne continued to pour divine energy through the warhammer, granting his allies with the resilience they needed to press on and destroy the horrific forces that stood before them.

The conjured wall blocking the entrance continued to crack. Frenzied geists swiped at the frozen barrier breaking it down into the small icy chunks. They were desperately seeking entrance to the chamber to fulfill their master's will. The champions standing within were armed and ready to great them. It was taking longer than they originally expected. This taxed the paladin's patience. The sooner they were rid of them, the sooner they could all return home and forget this horrifying experience. If the Scourge were unable to break through to challenge them, Rayne was poised to show them the way in.

Light's Redemption slammed against the ground. The saronite-laden floor crumbled underneath its might leaving a huge crater in its wake. A massive wave of light launched forth from the site of the blast. It rushed towards the entrance carrying with it the size and weight of a roaring tsunami. The swelling energy crushed through the frozen barrier, crumpling the conjured wall as if it weren't even there.

The tidal wave of holy power traveled through the resilient Scourge force. Those that were unlucky to stand it its wake disintegrated before its majestic touch instantaneously leaving no trace of their insidious hides. The blast traveled to the center of the pack. It detonated in a ball of brilliant radiance vaporizing nearly half of the undead creatures in a gout of glorious light.

All of the Knights looked on in sheer awe. Those that weren't fortunate enough to be granted a quick release from eternal undeath slowly began to funnel into the room. The paladin clutched his shield tightly and directed his gaze towards them. He looked upon his friends and allies with glorious confidence. Rayne's eyes tightened as his expression dimmed while dictating one final commanding shout.

"COME ON!"

Rayne leapt into the fray. His gleaming wings swept back as he seemingly flew into the air. Hardened plate greaves struck to ground. Bolts of golden energy burst forth whipping in all directions like a furious lightning storm. The consecration dwarfed that of his previous effort, easily spanning towards the entire width of the room and pressing just beyond the shattered opening.

The Scourge rushed into the chamber without any regard to their safety. Their bodies burned upon stepping into the holy empowered area. Some only made it a few measly steps before crumbling to the ground and disintegrating before it's intimidating strength. The others that courageously passed through were first met by the paladin's unflinching shield while the Knights swooped in.

Marcus' lungs thundered as he jumped high into the air. The warrior crashed upon the ground beside his guild leader. He hurled his heavy mace forward, cracking a leaping geist in midflight and launching the filthy vermin clean across the chamber. Its body crashed into the wall nearly liquefying on impact. The sight almost made Marcus bellow in a cocky mirth. He used only a fraction of this newly granted strength and couldn't wait to take his renewed vigor to its absolute limits.

The rest of the Knights engaged the hideous masses. Light's Redemption utterly destroyed anything it came into contact with. The paladin was so dominating that a few of the Scourge started to detract away from him. While this would normally give him ground to pursue, Rayne took the seconds he was afforded to check in on Valithria. His eyes slowly widened as he was not ready to bear witness to the radiant golden dome that had suddenly reemerged.

Zariyana floated just beyond her magnificent barrier. A similar yet smaller pair of angelic wings the paladin currently sported were affixed on her back. She easily commanded the divine power without strain or fatigue. The female Legend twin hovered a few feet above the ground. Her hands channeled impressive clouds of shimmering light. With a simple snap of her fingers, Zariyana called down rich columns of boisterous might. She transcended all of her previous limitations and effortlessly smited any foul creature that happened to creep passed the defending Knights.

Streaks of light dashed above the rotting masses. The gnome zipped from archmage to archmage, driving his stiletto daggers cleanly through the top of their skulls and leaping towards the next victim. His movements were fast and chaotic. He bounced from each target faster than anyone, including his own allies could track. Weasel's figure seamed to meld into a blur of black and gold as he mercilessly dispatched each of the Scourge's most prominent casters with relative ease.

Saelena's rifle roared as she rapidly rained down bullets from the blazing end of her smoking rifle. Sickening green ooze vomited from the pierced skulls of ghouls and geists alike. The hunter's shots were precise and quick. She unleashed a full clip of ammunition in seconds. The exploding gunpowder from each round sounded as if they were fired simultaneously. She spent more time reloading than anything else. Saelena was almost unsure if the gun could handle her continued ferocity. If she continued this streak, the barrel may begin to melt which was a surprisingly enjoyable accomplishment to attempt.

Gouts of benevolent power ripped through the gathering ghouls. They foolishly continued to funnel through the thin entrance while Ademski and Marcus stood on opposing sides and easily struck them down. The draenei exuberantly cheered with every slain Scourge that fell before him. His heart was so full of joy and love after hearing his wife speak again for the first time in ages. The gleaming two-handed sword exploded with divine energy after every swing. It carried a power he had not experienced in quite some time. Ademski desperately wanted to destroy every rotting monster that gathered here. He could not wait to get back to his devoted wife and hear more of what she had to say.

Scourge forces constantly pushed through the path just outside the door. Fire rained from the alcove above. The mage pelted the outlying undead creatures with scorching boulders of massive destruction. While most of his fellow casters called down a blizzard upon a mass of foes, Cayden's first and foremost aptitude was manipulating chaotic flames. He ignited the remaining minions lurking behind the entrance. All that remained were the large contingent force that happened to make it inside.

The Templar Knights continued to wade through their undead adversaries. Surprisingly, Lorelei seemed to adapt to this newfound strength best of all. The young elf battled beside the others. She swung the broadsword powerfully but carried an all too familiar grace and elegance the paladin had not seen in what seemed like ages. It was almost as if she was wielding the blade with the skill and finesse of her elder brother. Every strike sliced through the horde of undead quickly and cleanly. Had Rayne blinked, he would have missed it entirely.

Terrible tremors emanated from the entrance. The final and most fearsome of the lot was trying to force his way through. Its muscular shoulders were too wide to fit past the opening. A defiant roar blasted through massive abomination as it mustered enough strength to crash through the entrance. Fractured rocks and saronite littered the area. The hulking behemoth ignored every other foe and made haste towards the guarded paladin in the center of the chamber.

Rayne slowly raised his shield. The abomination's steps quaked throughout the room. His body did not tremble before the gargantuan undead monster that lurked above. Not a flicker of fear wafted before the paladin's radiant eyes as the hulking brute raised his massive axe and drove it screaming downwards. He stood firmly with the bulwark cascading above and awaiting the thundering blow.

Golden lights exploded into the area. Rayne stood in awe as the divine radiance magnified his barrier into ten times its normal size. The holy shield absorbed every ounce of the giant's devastating attack. Its muscular arm trembled in confusion. The hulking behemoth put enough force into the attack to flatten even the most formidable Ymirjar. The paladin barely felt it.

Rayne lowered his shield. He stood before the baffled monster and let out a powerful battle cry. The paladin hurled the warhammer forward. Light's redemption crushed the abomination's disgusting abdomen. The creature howled as it reeled backwards. Its flesh started to tear at the sight of the incredible strike. Streaks of light peaked through the openings. They rapidly grew in thickness and length all across its stitched hide. The Scourge behemoth let out one last defiant shout before the golden energy erupted from within. Its searing energy vaporized nearly every hideous chunk of its repulsive body. What little flesh remained shot and littered the chamber in every direction.

The surrounding Knights looked upon the remarkably quick encounter with wide eyes and puzzled expressions. As their fight continued, some of them couldn't help but comment at the spectacle they bore witness to.

"Holy shit…!" The warrior grimaced.

"Did Rayne just floor that abom…?" Weasel continued.

"In a single strike?" Finished the draenei.

Unbounding energy continued to quake within the paladin's body. It was as if his entire being had become a direct conduit for the light's magnificent power. The very blood in his veins trembled trying to contain it all. Rayne's mind raced with the possibilities of utilizing this newfound strength. All of the previous scars and wounds along his body had disappeared as if they were never there.

Emerald lights flashed into the chamber. Another portal ripped through the atmosphere. The paladin immediately darted his eyes behind him to find Narula and Samuel making a hasty exit from the realm beyond. Their bodies crackled with streaks of green energy. Spending a considerable amount of time in the Emerald Dream has appeared to serve them well. However, the night elf's expression was brimming with concern when she looked upon the battlefield they left behind. Rayne's immense golden form was unlike anything she had ever bore witness too. She cried out to him not out of curiosity but out of instinct.

"Raymond!"

"Narula!" The paladin called back. "Take care of Valithria! We'll handle –"

The entire chamber shook under the massive might of a loud horn. Though the sounds of combat were still abundant, Rayne couldn't help but fixate his attention on the ominous and booming voice that soon followed.

"Your resistance is admirable," the Lich King bellowed. "Breaking you will give me immeasurable pleasure Templar. You will soon learn suffering beyond suffering."

Powerful vibrations shook the ground before them. The sounds of hurried footsteps echoed in the great path beyond the entrance. A dank black void began to spark within the paladin's gut. That wretched noise was an all too familiar.

"Destroy him my minions," commanded the Lord of the Scourge. "Show this _paladin_ the darkness that awaits him."

The quaking sound of clattering feet grew louder with every quick breath out of the Rayne's rapidly beating lungs. Another army of undead was approaching them. This one appeared to be as large as the one prior if not even larger. The Lich King was determined to make good on his promise. That bellowing threat infected the paladin's mind above everything else.

"GO!" Rayne fired back at the night elf while turning his attention towards the oncoming mob of Scourge reinforcements. "HURRY!"

Narula stood in awe for a brief moment before quietly nodding in approval. She ordered Samuel to stand on the opposing side towards the northern end of the shining dome while she quickly took position at the southern side. The night elf rooted her feet upon the ground. She perilously concentrated all of the incredible strength brewing within her as her form melded and changed. Thick branches replaced Narula's arms and legs. Her skin and armor shifted into sturdy brown bark. A thin ripple of purple leaves adorned the top of the night elf's head. The previous pinnacle of grace and beauty had vanished. Narula became a majestic treant, morphing her entire being into that of the noble sapling of the world tree, Nordrassil. She threw her arms up and unleashed a harmonious stream of rejunivating vitality quelling within.

The priest and night elf cast their stored energy simultaneously. Gouts of emerald and golden lights washed over the injured dragon's body. Valithria huffed in delight as the countless wounds across her hide slowly started to mend and fade.

After verifying the healing process had resumed, Rayne turned his full attention towards the entrance. The remaining undead within the chamber continued to avoid him. Their numbers had dwindled considerably but there were still plenty in here to deal with before the next wave appeared. The paladin clenched his warhammer tightly as he surveyed the ongoing battle. His heart immediately dropped when he noticed a painful truth beginning to emerge.

The radiant energy within the Knight's eyes waned. Light's Redemption had healed their wounds and restored their strength beyond their wildest dreams. Sadly, the effects appeared to only be temporary. Their undead adversaries didn't seem concerned with this either way. They continued to bite and scratch with everything they had just as their master had ordered.

Rayne took a deep breath as the Scourge reinforcements filled the hallway. The previous estimates were all a lie. They returned with greater numbers than the creatures before them. This army was determined to carry out their awful duty. Despite the threat of looming death just beyond the door, the paladin appeared to be the only one among them distressing about the upcoming plight.

Even without the glistening golden glow in their eyes, the Knights continued to keep up their defiant resistance. Every one of them had something to protect. Rayne was suddenly reminded of Lorelei's last words to him. He pondered the sentiment for what seemed like ages as the battle raged on. It was futile to search for such things in the heat of battle but for some reason, his mind could go nowhere else. It was as if the light within him commanded him to find it.

The Scourge new wave of fearsome minions would soon be barreling through the entrance. Though the Knights were at full strength, there was no way they would be able to handle them all. History would soon repeat itself. The paladin was the only one among them continuing to funneling the immense benevolent energy. He quickly turned his gaze upon the dragon where another realization soon washed over him.

Valithria's colossal body was being mended at a steady but exhaustive pace. As great as their efforts were, Samuel and Narula would not heal the dragon in time. The chamber would soon be flooded with undead and the Lich King would make good on his deadly promise. A hazy blur filled the paladin's vision. It was as if the entire world was slowing before his very eyes. He would be forced to relive the annihilation of all of his friends and loved ones once again.

The hilt of Light's Redemption squeaked as Rayne tightened his grip. He still contained a great power within him but couldn't fathom how to use it. Bathing the Knights in golden light once again would be like putting a bandage on a decapitation victim. The effects were immense but also brief and there was no way to know if the warhammer or the paladin himself could handle another exhilarating feat. The Scourge were closing in fast and their options continued to dwindle.

A massive sinking pit grew within Rayne's chest. Even if they somehow managed to survive this unfathomable encounter, this would only bolster their already redeemed and impressive reputation. It would soon lead to more missions, more deadly battles, and the constant pressure of living up to their status for the rest of their lives. Rayne did not want to live like that. All of the stress, anxiety and pressure was overwhelming much like the radiant energy he commanded. He couldn't take watching his friends suffer and die and yet, he knew if they continued like this, that would all soon be their fates.

Light sparked before his eyes. The paladin's vision cleared as the answer slammed into the Rayne's mind. He finally knew exactly what to do to save his companions, free them from this burden, and how to respond to Lorelei's question. It was all so simple, he couldn't believe he didn't think of this sooner. Despite their grandiose efforts, strength, and prowess, none of the Knights had the power to defeat the Scourge minions. However, there were someone else in this room that easily could.

The Templar-crested bulwark slowly slid down Rayne's arm. Its tip landed upon the ground with a resonation thud before tumbling forward. The paladin stared intently at the rapid geists, ghouls, skeletons and abominations rushing through the path. They were salivating feverishly as they ran towards the entrance. Rayne paused for the briefest of moments as the Knights continued to fight on all around him. He took a deep breath and offered one final prayer. The light had given him so much at this point. It was finally time to give something back.

Memories of the previous quests, missions and battles swarmed through his thoughts. Amongst them all, one particular moment stood out to the paladin. He suddenly remembered his encounter with the Lich King and their brief conversation together. The Lord of the Scourge had offered a unique nugget of wisdom by mentioning the notion of sacrifice. Arthas forfeited his soul trying to save his people and ended up condemning them. Though his heart was in the right place, he broke the cardinal rule that gave all great men the strength and courage to overcome any obstacle. Even the paladin was guilty of this himself. It nearly shattered him trying to find it but thanks to his friends and beloved, Rayne finally knew what needed to be done.

 _A sacrifice is nothing without reason._

The paladin shot his arm outward. His palm pointed at the meek dragon's body. He clutched Light's Redemption and begged it to heed his final command. Rayne's lungs exploding treading fire through his throat as he unleashed a torrential shout. A stream of magnificent light burst through his hand. It erupted into a beam nearly twenty feet tall washed over Valithria, bathing her battered body in divine radiance.

Golden energy exploded from the paladin's eyes as he roared. The overwhelming power burned through the cracked lenses of his engineering goggles. It could no longer contain the brilliant light bursting within. The steel frames snapped before vaporizing in a sea of shimmering radiance. Rayne funneled every single fragment of benevolence within him into the dragon. His gleaming golden wings began to dissipate. They evaporated into the air, twinkling like the stars in the night's sky before the run rose.

Rayne funneled every last spec of light within outward. He coated Valithria in a tidal wave of magnificent golden energy. His tremendous roars nearly tore his esophagus apart. The paladin threw caution to the wind as his own body started to wane underneath the tremendous display of holy divinity.

The world around Rayne faded. His strength had faded. The blood in his veins started to cool. Black clouds encroached his vision. The sounds of battle were drowned by his frenzied shouting. He paid them no mind as he drained every spec of light from his body. Rayne could see nothing but a sea of divine energy mending rapidly mending the dragon's wounds. His bellowing roar echoed throughout the chamber. Throughout his continued and strained efforts, the paladin did not waver.

A glimmering haze washed over his eyes. Rayne's body became light and hollow. His knees buckled. Light's Redemption grew heavy in his hand before spilling through his fingers. The encroaching clouds widened as they soon encapsulated his vision. All of the stories he heard as a child were proven to be nothing more than tall tales. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. Only darkness awaited the paladin.


	24. Chapter 23

_Menethil Harbor_

 _Wetlands_

 _3 years ago_

The succulent smell of salt wafted along the hazy grey skies. Dock workers hastily unloaded fresh products and produce from the ships that had arrived the night prior. They desperately moved crates from within their boats before the sun grew any higher. It would be getting warmer soon and the overwhelming humidity would make continued manual labor a nightmare so they pressed on to finish as quickly as they could.

Rayne stood at the edge of the harbor. His vision was cast westward into the bright blue sea beyond. A fragrant bouquet of fresh kingsblood was held tightly in his grip. He had waited a long time for this moment. Most traveler vessels arrived at the break of dawn. This particular one was running a little late but after waiting over three years for this moment, the newly paladin could easily wait a few more minutes.

The distant mists parted as a ship slowly came into view. Rayne's heart lifted. Blood began vigorously pumping throughout his veins as the vessel approached. Large taught beige sails adorned the masts. They brandished yellow anchors along the thick fabric; the proud symbol of the Alliance stronghold in Theramore Isle. It was the only major harbor in Kalimdor that openly trekked the harsh waters across the continents between the Maelstrom.

Horns blared from the deck of the boat as it came into port. A bell rang signaling its official arrival. The paladin's knees started to tremble. He could hardly contain his elation as the crewmen rolled out the wooden steps for the passengers to deboard. Families immediately came rushing forward. Rayne stood towards the back and let them pass. Soldiers who had valiantly fought to defend their homes in a land that was foreign to most were finally returning home. The trifle amount of time they were offered on leave was precious and could not be squandered. It warmed his heart to watch their blissful reunions hoping his would be just as sweet.

The paladin had gone over this in his head a hundred times over. He crept up towards the edge of the dock and examined his reflection in the water below. His glistening blonde hair was neatly trimmed and tied into a sharp ponytail. The barber had done a fantastic job yesterday afternoon trimming off the excess hairs from his face. Rayne had even donned one of his finest silk outfits for this momentous occasion. While he had been wearing heavy plate armor for months on end without faltering, it felt good to shed that steel skin for something a bit more open and breathable.

Another bell rang from the deck of the ship. The final passengers were about to exit the vessel. He clutched the bouquet tightly and hid it behind his back. The paladin took a gulp as the stairs emptied. Rayne couldn't take his eyes off it. His heart slowly started to sink and gaze lowered. The same wretched feeling that plagued him in the garden all those years ago had returned. He wondered if he were the victim of some cruel prank. Fate was toying with his emotions again and the paladin just couldn't take it anymore.

A piercing lavender shine emanated from the rising sun. Rayne snapped his envigored blue eyes upward. The glamorous creature immediately filled his vision. Regal leather armor hugged her slender body. She had appeared to stand even taller than he remembered. Her frame was a bit wider and more muscular as well. Perhaps it was the pair of powerful phoenixes carved into her spaulders that made her seem more imposing. Smooth amethyst hair flowed atop her chest and halfway down her back. It glowed with a shimmer that a chest full gems could not even dare to compete with. Long lavender ears stretched out from each side of her enamoring visage. Sharp amber irises peaked out of the warm glow of her silver eyes. They peered across the wooden docks curiously before immediately stopping atop the paladin's frame.

"Raymond…?"

The night elf immediately raced down the steps. She ran feverishly across the dock winding through the other happy couples and families before leaping into Rayne's arms and wrapping him in a powerful embrace.

"I can't believe it!" She joyfully spoke.

Narula continued to squeeze him tightly. Her silken lilac skin brushed up against the paladin's cheek and sent his frigid nerves into overdrive.

"It's good to see you too," admitted Rayne through a wide smile.

All of the patience and willpower in the world couldn't stop him from grinning like an idiot. They stood together atop the dock clenched in an unyielding hug for what seemed like ages. Though he didn't want this moment to end, the paladin knew that this was just the start of some glorious things to come and carefully parted from her caring arms. Their eyes did not linger from each other for even the slightest moment.

"You look amazing Narula," the paladin stated. He could have gone on for hours about her incredible beauty and how she seemed to grow even more ravishing over the years they've spent apart. Instead of gushing like a love-struck fool, Rayne carefully revealed the kingsblood from behind his back and presented them to her. "Here, these are for you."

The night elf's expression brightened. She graciously took the bouquet of violet flowers into her slender hands and gave them a deep sniff.

"These are lovely Raymond," Narula smiled. "Thank you so much."

The paladin braced himself. Her lips pursed and she leaned in closely wrapping her arms around him once more. It appeared as if the night elf were about to take things one step further but her eyes immediately sharpened and pulled back at the last moment. Rayne was a bit confused at first but the fact that he was able to experience her glorious floral essence was more than enough reward for his efforts. They slowly split apart once more. Narula continued to trade glances between him and the lovely bouquet of flowers she carried.

"What are you doing here?" The night elf's tone was puzzled but still filled with delight. "I had not sent word of my arrival to Templar Keep. I thought Miss Goodwin would be escorting me this morning."

"About that," laughed Rayne. He instinctively started scratching his head while trying his best to maintain an upfront and honest composure. "I was the orphanage the other day on behalf of my father. We talked for a while and she kind of let it slip so I asked her if I could go in her stead and surprise you."

The paladin pleaded with his conscious to remain firm. He was omitting a few key details in that story. Mainly, the fact that he practically begged Miss Goodwin to let him come here today instead of her.

"It has been so long. I'm," the night elf began while her gaze shifted slightly. She bit her lower lip and returned her eyes to his before continuing. "I am having difficulty finding the subject to discuss with you first."

"I can think of a few," the paladin smiled. He almost tripped over his next words as he rambled through some of the many things that came to mind. "Your time in Moonglade, learning the druidic craft. I can't wait to hear all about it! We've got a lot of catching up to do."

Narula's expression dimmed. Her head sulked slightly as she turned her gaze away from him.

"Forgive me Raymond," she dolefully sighed. Her expression grew dimmer as she struggled to even speak her next grave words. "I am afraid I will not be able to share much time with you."

The paladin's heart dropped before she even finished her last breath.

"What do you mean?"

The night elf found difficulty keeping her eyes upon his. She looked away for a few moments while carefully clutching her elbow before finding the strength to continue.

"My stay in Menethil will be very brief," admitted Narula. "The Cenarian Circle has granted me a week of leave to get my affairs in order before I am to return and continue assisting their efforts in Kalimdor."

"You're," Rayne stammered. "You're going back?"

She offered a single nod as acknowledgement.

"There is much work to be done," she continued. "And they require a lot of help, more than even I myself can offer. I am unsure as to how long they require my aid. At the very least, wanted to return and say my goodbyes to everyone that has cared and supported me thus far."

The paladin gulped deeply while drinking in Narula's ominous words.

"I see."

This sweet moment had instantly become sour. Rayne was hoping they could pick up right where they left off. The night elf had left so abruptly the last time and now, it appears as if history would repeat itself yet again. The paladin didn't find much disdain in many things but he absolutely hated the fact that they would soon be torn apart just as quickly as they had come together. The magnificent beating in his heart and elation sweeping through his emotions upon seeing Narula one more was something he wanted to continue and chase until he could no longer breath. This was not how he wanted their story to end.

"What about you Raymond?" The night elf casually interjected. "Do you not have your own duties to fulfill with the Argent Dawn? I have not spoken with my aunt in quite some time but – "

Narula's voice started to drone. He was unable to properly listen to her concerned thoughts as the weight of the sorrowful situation crashed upon him. The paladin could easily tell her the truth and be done with it but that would mean parting with her sooner than he wanted. That was the absolute last thing he desired. One week with her would simply not cut it. Rayne wouldn't settle for anything less than an eternity and everything beyond that. The paladin's heart was just about to crumble when suddenly, light sparked before his eyes. He saw the glorious answer to their dilemma and couldn't have been more elated with just how easy it was.

"Actually," Rayne began with a small chuckle. "I turned down the offer to join the Argent Dawn."

"You did?" The night elf coyly replied while raising an eyebrow. "But why? I thought –"

"It's because I've decided to start my own guild," interjected the paladin. "You know, be my own boss, see the world, and help those in need on my terms."

"Raymond…" She gasped. "I had no idea that you were interested in adventuring. Have you contemplated this for a long time?"

Rayne nodded. He hoped the surprise announcement masked the aura of his continued deception.

"For a while now, he continued. "During my training, I always felt like more of a tool of the military than my own person. It was hard to differentiate myself from the others at times. When I finally completed the trials, I knew that I wanted something more than this. I just didn't know what and then suddenly, it became obvious."

"Really?" Inquired Narula. "Running a guild can be an arduous but rewarding endeavor. There are many members within the Circle that are a part of ones of their own. I have heard their stories from time to time. Some of them enjoy the experience but others have grown weary of the extra effort required of them."

"I know," the paladin replied. The weight of the night elf's words was heavy and thick. He didn't really contemplate just how important of a decision this would be but if it meant being with her for even a second longer, Rayne would pay any price. "But, it just feels right to me."

The paladin's heart began to warm. His expression brightened. The answer was within his grasp. All Rayne had to do was reach up and seize it.

"This isn't something I want to do," he declared. "This is something I _have_ to do."

His tone was brimming with confidence. Out of everything he's said in the past few moments, this was the only one that was the absolute truth.

"I see," the night elf spoke. Her voice dimmed slightly as if she struggled with what to say next. "How many have you recruited thus far?

"Well," laughed the paladin. "Thing's are just getting started. It's just me for right now."

Rayne shot her a poised look. He mustered up the courage to find the enticing words that would draw Narula closer.

"But I'm hoping to increase my ranks."

The paladin had trouble looking her in the eyes. His gaze shifted away from the night elf's constantly. It was as if he were too afraid to find the answer in her expression but begging for it to appear at the same time. Rayne waited impatiently for her response. He looked upon the wide-open sea to the west. It was a big world out there. Adventuring was a bold profession and as the night elf said, wasn't one to be taken lightly. There were plenty of people that needed help but couldn't scream loud enough for the ones with the greatest power to hear. The paladin contemplated the opportunities that would soon await him on this new venture as a gentle hand fell upon his chest.

"Then it will be my great honor to join you."

Rayne's eyes shot wide as his head immediately jolted to face her. His heart lifted once more and nearly melted underneath the night elf's infatuating touch.

"Narula?!" He frantically panted praying he heard her correctly. "Are you serious?"

She sternly nodded and returned with a bright smile.

"Of course, Raymond," she brightly answered. Her tone dropped slightly as Narula's eye softened. "After everything you've done for me, after everything we've been through…" She looked upon him with assurance as she finished. "I would not allow anyone else to be the first."

The paladin's heart nearly beat out of his chest and carried him into the sky.

"This is great!" Rayne nearly leapt out of his boots and cradled the night elf in another tight hug. Thankfully, he was still able to keep some semblance of composure as he rifled through the wonderful opportunities that awaited them. "We can finally work together from now on. See the world, help the less fortunate. I can even accompany you with your missions with the Cenarian Circle!"

Narula looked at him fondle and responded to his elated expression with one of her own.

"Nothing would please me more Raymond."

This was all happening so fast. In order to properly fulfill his bold declaration, Rayne had to sit down and really think this through. It couldn't just be something that kept him and the night elf connected. It had to be something far greater than he had ever hoped. If they were going to pull this off, the paladin had to take a serious look at what the future would bring. The only thing he was certain of at this point was there was no future he cared about that didn't have Narula by his side always and forever.

"I've got to prepare a few things," he began. "Why don't you take the carriage I brought to Miss Goodwin's house? We can meet later tonight and discuss our next steps."

"Raymond?" The puzzled night elf stared upon him with an inquisitive look upon her brow. "Are you sure?"

The paladin confidently nodded with a bright smirk.

"Absolutely! They'll be waiting for you on the eastern road at the end of the wooden pathway," said Rayne while pointing to the aforementioned area. He immediately took off in a dead sprint running south towards the main city. The paladin turned and offered one final wave with his signature smile. "I'll see you at Miss Goodwin's. Bye Narula!"

Rayne immediately returned his focus to the path before him. He couldn't believe his incredible luck. Just when things seemed their darkest, there was always a light that awaited him. The paladin sprinted along the path with his mind filled with the new journey that awaited him. He hoped it wouldn't take all morning or afternoon to convince his father to assist him as well. Now all he had to do was come up with a catchy name for this bright new guild.

 _The Frostwing Halls_

 _Icecrown Citadel_

"I AM RENEWED!" The dragon cried.

Valithria thrust herself from the ground and with an incredible beat of her wings took to the sky. The grievous gashes and wounds that plagued her emerald hide had vanished in their entirety as the golden lights dissipated.

"Ysera grants me the favor to lay these foul creatures to rest!"

She unleashed a torrent of green flames from within her intimidating maw. The powerful breath ripped through the entrance and instantly incinerated the undead monsters that attempted to enter the chamber. Scourge minions wailed in agony. Their bodies roasted in the torrential emerald inferno. Not a single trace of their rotting hides survived the scorched blast.

The dragon continued to rain down her vengeance upon the Scourge. She decimated the oncoming forces with veritable ease. What took the Templar Knights considerable effort, Valithria handled with just a few deep breaths. The scant minions that remained within the room quickly fell as the dragon's sheer daunting aura forced them to crumble into heaping piles of decayed sinew.

A calm tranquility fell over the chamber as the dragon landed. The sounds of rapid battle fell silent almost instantaneously. In the blink of an eye, the harrowing encounter had ended. Their mission was finally achieved and now they could hold their heads high after a job well done.

"RAYMOND!"

The gut-wrenching shriek nearly shattered the walls of the saronite-forged chamber as if they were made of glass. Narula had already reverted to her night elven form as she called out to her beloved. The night elf continued screaming his name while sprinting towards the paladin's fallen body. Rayne lied still in the center of the room flat upon his face. Light's Redemption was inches away from his unmoving hand. His eyes were shut. Not even a faint smile graced his lips.

Though she was the furthest Knight from him, no one beat Narula to the paladin's side. The night elf collapsed beside him, falling to her knees, and rolling his haggard body over her thighs. Everyone else gathered around them. She caressed his sullen face and peered at him intimately. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

"He's not breathing…!" Narula cringed. "His pulse. I can't –"

"Then we must bring him to the Life-Binder!" Called the dragon. "Stand back!"

Valithria took a deep breath and thrust her head upwards. She released a gout of incredible flame upon the room. Saronite crumbled underneath its raw power. Remnants of the vile substance littered the surrounding area near the eastern end of the chamber. The dull grey skies above the citadel peered through the newly created opening.

"On my back, Narula," the emerald dragon ordered. "Hurry!"

The night elf wrapped her arms around Rayne. She conjured the strength of the guardian and easily plucked him off the ground. Narula cradled the paladin's body carefully. She jumped upon the dragon's tail and leapt from spine to spine until reaching a safe spot between Valithria's wings.

"Hold on tight!"

Wind violently bellowed into the chamber. The dragon took flight immediately. She ascended through the opening with veritable ease. They traversed into the skies of Icecrown leaving everything and everyone else behind.

"Hey!" Lorelei frantically shouted. Her voice was breaking. She could hardly find the right words to convey her feelings and instead, said the first thing that came to mind. "Where are you going?!"

"What the hell just happened?" The warrior curiously asked.

The Templar Knights stood amongst themselves in sullen silence. Each of them tried to piece together the events that transpired. The battle was so harrowing and fierce, none could actually say they had witnessed anything beyond the brilliant display of golden lights.

"What," Cayden pondered. He choked on his own words as the weight of reality slowly fell upon his as well as the shoulders of those all around him. "What do we do now?"

Everyone returned their eyes to the roof. They stared endlessly at the newly created hole. Some had already begun crafting their own theories. No one dared to speak them out loud. The Templar Knights continued to stand in silence inside of the corpse-ridden chamber. For the first time since joining this intrepid young guild, they were all at a loss for words.

 _Wyrmrest Temple_

 _Dragonblight_

The mighty emerald dragon's wings beat rapidly as they approached the incredible tower. Valithria's trek through the snowy landscape was much quicker than the ruby drake earlier this afternoon. What took the small red dragon hours only took her less than half of one.

Narula clutched the paladin's body tightly as they descended upon the temple. She hadn't once taken her eyes off of him. Not even the immense forces of nature she readily manipulated could sooth his ailments. No matter how hard the night elf tried, Rayne was not waking up.

The ground rumbled as Valithria landed atop the rise. Narula immediately leapt off the dragon's back cradling the paladin in her arms. Her feet touched the towering platform with grace and elegance. The night elf made sure to properly care for her beloved. Narula tenderly supported his head and neck as she laid him down flat. Her eyes continued to tremble as she kneeled beside him and stared upon his sullen and unmoving body.

"This is all my fault," the night elf winced. She could barely look upon the paladin through the blurry haze as tears flooded her vision. They spilled from her eyes and rained upon his broken armor as she leered atop of him while calling his name. "Raymond…"

"Hey!" A squeaky voice called out. It continued to huff along the rise, calling out to the intruders atop the temple. "I was just about to leave for Coldarra. What's going on here? Who –"

The bronze dragonflight ambassador appeared before them in her gnomish form and immediately gasped at the sight. Chromie ran towards the night elf and paladin. A thin brown scroll was clutched firmly in her hand.

"Hey," the gnome gasped. "Hey!"

Chromie fell to her knees beside them. Her deep green eyes winced at the sight of the morose paladin. She carefully ran her fingers along the scarred and battered edges of Rayne's armor.

"This is not," the bronze dragonflight ambassador choked. "This can't be happening. After all this time… Not again."

The scroll was immediately thrusted towards Narula. Tears continued to fall from her eyes and began staining the brown parchment. The night elf didn't even acknowledge its presence. However, the dragonflight ambassador urgently implored its significance.

"You have to tell him!" Demanded Chromie. She stared deeply into the night elf's quivering eyes. Her tiny hands began to tremble atop the heavy plates of the paladin's armor. "He needs to know the truth! Promise me!"

Narula slowly reached for the scroll as instructed. She carefully unraveled the tight parchment and peered into the written text. Her eyes softened and soon steeled. All of the tears had dried even if for but a brief and glorious moment. The night elf could not believe what she had just read. It all started to make sense.

"Raymond!" Narula sobbed. "Please wake up! You must hear this. You're –"

A boisterous roar echoed from Valithria's maw cutting the night elf's voice. Her magnificent bestial form began to shrink and meld. Thin arms and legs were wrapped in tight brown and green cloth linens adorned with gold plates along her chest and gauntlets. Powerful eyes glowed with an emerald hue. Radiant blonde hair shined like a glimmering vein of ore sat gently alongside her deep chestnut spaulders. A pair of pointy ears stuck out and complimented her alabaster skin fully revealing her high elven figure.

"Valithria!"

The Emerald Queen rushed towards her and wrapped her lavender arms over the high elf. She clutched her deeply. A warm smile rose from her thin amethyst lips as Valithria reciprocated the embrace.

"Thank the Titans," she elated spoke. Ysera carefully pulled herself away and looked into her companion's eyes with adoration. "I am pleased to see you have returned. Are you alright?"

"Yes, my queen," nodded Valithria. The high elf's vision slowly descended downwards. "However…"

The sullen change in tone forced the Emerald Queen to look upon the fallen body of Rayne Templar. Her tone immediately darkened. Ysera's eyes were filled with remorse as she pleaded with her brood to continue.

"What happened?"

"The paladin," the high elf began. She struggled to speak properly as Narula's fledging composure continued to break beside her. "He gave up all of his light. To save me."

The Emerald Queen gasped. She looked upon Rayne's solemn form once more. The last time she had seen him, he was bursting with life. To bear witness to him in such a horrid state was unimaginable.

"A mortal sacrificing his life to save an immortal?" Ysera quizzically spoke. "In all of my years, I have never heard of such a –"

A calming silence washed over them as the Queen of the Dragons emerged. She stepped forward and knelt before the paladin. Her radiant golden eyes gleamed with intensity as she stared upon him with great interest. Even Narula found the strength within her to pull back and allow the great Life-Binder to do her work.

"His spirit is faint, brooding underneath layers of darkness," Alexstrasza stated. She carefully cradled the paladin's head with one hand and hovered the other over his stiff face. "However, I –"

The Life-Binder's voice ceased as an armored gauntlet rose and gently clasped her wrist with a soft squeeze.

"Is Valithria safe?"

Rayne's words were slow and painful. It was as if every breath was a chore that he no longer had the energy to complete. He continued to wheeze as the elated night elf cheered at the sight.

"Raymond!"

"Yes, my child," answered the Life-Binder. "You have performed well. We are in your debt Raymond Templar."

The paladin's face fluttered. His lips throbbed while agonizingly forcing a small smile.

"Then I would like you to hear my wish."

Rayne mustered what little remained of his strength and began to utter his desire before the dragons and his beloved. He panted through every great detail pushing through the torment that encapsulated him. The paladin conveyed the deepest depths of his heart to everyone who could hear his pain-riddled voice. When he was finished, Rayne released Alexstrasza's arm. His battered gauntlet collapsed beside him with a soft thump.

"Raymond?!" The puzzled night elf implored through a sharp gasp. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

The paladin's hand lifted once more. His soft blue eyes stared deeply into hers. He cupped Narula's cheek within his palm and tenderly stroked it with his thumb.

"I already have what I want."

Every word grew weaker as Rayne exhausted the last of his remaining energy. He stared upon his beloved cherishing every moment he looked upon her glorious visage. The paladin took a deep breath. His lungs rattled as the delicious air barely made its way inside.

"This is what needs to be done."

Rayne continued to stroke the night elf's cheek. His smiled widened as he drank in this exquisite moment. The paladin's tone dimmed. He could barely look Narula in the eyes as he forced himself to seek atonement one last time.

"Forgive me Narula," rasped Rayne. It pained him to continue but this was the very last thing that needed to be said. "I am going to need you to be strong for me. For _them_ , from now on."

The night elf could no longer contain herself any longer. Tears flooded from her eyes, pelting the paladin's armor in a shower of emotions. Narula clutched the paladin's hand and squeezed it gently. A faint smile rose from her thin lavender lips.

"I can endure anything for you, my love."

Rayne's hand fell from her cheek and bounced off the temple surface with a lifeless thud. She collapsed atop the paladin's body, wrapping her slender arms over his neck and shoulders. The night elf buried her head into his chest and openly wept as the veiled orange sun set in the distant horizon.


	25. Chapter 24

_Templar Keep_

 _Menethil Harbor_

Light peaked through the darkness. The endless sea of black started to vanish. A blurry mess of lumber and stone slowly came into view. Wood crackled as it burned in a nearby pit. The smell of fresh flowers permeated the air. Smooth silk linens rested atop a fine feather-strewn bedding. The unfamiliar room was slowly coming into focus. An elderly gentleman sat upon the edge of the bed. His thick white beard dangled inches above the sheet. He stared intently with a tiny smile quickly growing into something much larger.

"You're finally awake?"

The old man's visage started to brighten amidst the faded chaos surrounding him.

"Lord Templar?"

His lips gently shifted forming a quaint smile.

"How are you feeling Lena?"

The elder of house Templar placed his hand atop hers and gave it a good squeeze. Lena Sherwood slowly picked herself up. Her muscles were tired and stiff. Every movement proved to be a chore. After a few frustrating grunts, she eventually sat up and rested her body along the pillows and backboard.

"Where am I?" The Captain of the Templar soldiers implored. "What happened?"

Elements of her memory began trickling in. Lena sprang forward. Her strength had seemingly returned in an instant. The Captain's eyes widened as she began searching for answers.

"The war - !"

"Calm down Lena," Lord Templar implored. He placed his hand atop Lena's shoulder and gently pressed her back along the backboard once more. "The war has ended. There is nothing left to fight."

The Captain's brow furrowed. Recollections of the past events rushed before her eyes. Her muscles tensed as she remembered a grievous incident. Lena reached underneath her sleeping robe and clutched her stomach. A thin layer of linen bandages were wrapped around her midsection.

"What happened…?"

She gasped while looked underneath the sheets and carefully spread apart the dressing. Not a flicker of pain ignited in any of her nerves which only seemed to pique at the Captain's curiosity even more.

"I was - !"

"Stubborn," the elder man laughed. "I had been told by some of the finest healers and medics in Azeroth that you would never recover. The looks on their faces when your wounds healed was well worth the price."

Lena's eyebrow rose. A cracked scowl formed upon her face. She remembered everything; the battle atop the ramparts, becoming impaled by the halberd, and the sad look upon the face of that big blonde idiot as she succumbed to the darkness. The Captain peered down and didn't find stitches, traces of blood, or even a scar where her flesh had been rended.

"I don't believe it," she huffed. "How did I – "

Overwhelming dread began to fill the void in her gut where her calm nerves resided. Lena may have been alright but her mind immediately swelled with the thoughts of the thousand others that fought beside her and the scant few that had continued in her stead.

"The soldiers! The Knights!" She panted. "Where are they?! How are they?! Did they – "

"As I said earlier child," Lord Templar calmed. His soothing voice appeared to quell the Captain's concerns almost entirely. "The war is over. Now, we have much more pressing matters to attend to."

The old man snapped his fingers. A sharp creek echoed from the door as it opened. Two maids adorned in black dresses and white aprons stood in the hallway. They stared curiously into the room but immediately turned their attention to their purveyor sitting on the bed and looking upon them with humble eyes.

"How may we serve you my lord?" They asked in unison.

"Come," ordered Lord Templar. He directed the chamber maids into the room. They carried warm buckets of water, clean towels, and fine clothing all organized to pamper the Captain thoroughly. "We must get you prepared for the celebration."

"Lord Templar?" The Captain curiously began. "What are we celebrating?"

The old man let out a deep sigh. A smile forcibly encroached upon his lips. He stared fondly out the nearby window.

"Life."

 _Cathedral of Hope_

 _Menethil Harbor_

The small chapel in this harbor town was usually host to less to less than a hundred wayward souls seeking blessings and redemption. Today it was packed with nearly five times amount. Hundreds packed the pews dressed in their finest regalia. A standing room only crowd filled the back section near the entrance where another hundred more waited outside as the ceremony began.

All of Menethil's most prominent citizens were on hand for this event. Some of the most renowned heroes and champions of Azeroth were also in attendance including the King of Stormwind himself, Varian Wrynn. He sat at the foremost pew on the right side of the church beside Lord Nigel Templar along with the three Bronzebeard brothers, Magni, Muradin, and even the eccentric Brann who had ceased his Explorers' League operations for one day. They were joined by prominent members of the Kirin Tor including Archmage Ronin and Lady Jaina Proudmoore at the far end.

Findle Whistlesteam was the very first to show up at the church this morning. He had been in the city for a few days prior tending to some business. Like Clockwork had even closed its doors for this occasion. For as long as he could remember, the trademark tinkered cap no longer graced his gnomish skull. Findle went out and purchased the finest suit gold could buy and took the time to properly groom himself for this occasion. After everything they've been through, it was the very least he could do.

Members of the Argent Crusade sat in the pew alongside the gnome. The Highlord Tirion Fordring was notably absent. He had some unfortunate and more pressing matters to personally attend to. However, one of his most trusted advisors Rayne Feathersong was more than willing to send his regards. Though she did not know Findle personally, they traded stories for a few minutes before the ceremony started. The night elf was able to keep his mood lifted and mind preoccupied. Her generous efforts were not entirely noble as she needed a bit of empathy as well to get through the day.

The Templar Knights filled the top two pews on the left side of the cathedral. Gone were their sharpened weapons and hardened armor. Each of them had shed their battle regalia for attire that was more befitting of the moment in question. Sitting in the middle of the front row was Captain Lena Sherwood. Though she was not an official member of the guild, the others treated her as if she were one of their own. Saelena sat beside her and held her trembling hand. The Captain promised herself she would cry but as soon as they stepped inside, she couldn't get the tears to stop. Hearing the blubbering elves a few rows back didn't help things either. Fialla Sweetberry and Aimee were beside each other sobbing uncontrollably. Even the patient Lucian Trias couldn't help calm them down. It wasn't like he desired to anyways.

Their newest member, Lorelei Strastrider sat on the first seat of the second row next to Cayden Melton. She stared ahead towards the end of the cathedral that had been decorated immaculately with flowers. The young elf's heart had suffered so much in the past few months. This should have been her breaking point and yet, Lorelei looked on with tranquility in her expression. In her vastly growing mind, she had learned that no matter what she could do, life had a way of working on its own terms and even with the most benevolent power at her disposal, some things could not be changed.

It seemed as if the entirety of the city of Menethil had shut down for one day in honor of this precious ceremony. The waters were calm and the docks still. There was not a soul within fifty miles who did not know of the celebration today. Attending the ceremony was almost a mandate but everyone treated it as if it were a privilege. The only one who was most notably absent from this occasion was Narula Dawngrove, though, she had a very prominent reason and no one within the cathedral would dare blame her.

A solemn air filled the church. Everyone within attempted to maintain their composure. Unfortunately, most of their resolves quickly broke upon viewing the large oak casket at the top of the altar. It shined beautifully underneath the morning sun peeking through the stained-glass windows. The ledge was adorned with gold and red gems. Pressed at the top of the lid was the proud crest of the Templar house.

Samuel Legend presided before the podium with an open tome and delivered the eulogy. The book was filled with notes, research, but most importantly, precious memories. He was one of the few in attendance that was still able to maintain and poised and calm composure. The priest spoke with confidence and grace. He regaled the audience with tales and great accomplishment of the soul being celebrated today. Surprisingly, the male twin of the Legend house even provided a bit of levity by adding in a humorous story of their times shared together. No one had expected him of all people to share a joke but judging by the state those within the church, it was surely needed and welcomed.

The priest finished this tribute with a revelation. There were many rumors floating about regarding the events that transpired and Samuel knew it was up to him to clear the air.

"Many people believed that he died to save the life of a dragon," the male Legend twin proclaimed. "However, that could not be further from the truth."

He took a deep breath. Samuel's eyes glanced over at the other Knights sitting before him.

"Rayne Templar possessed a wisdom that is unrivaled by anyone on the whole of Azeroth," complimented the priest. "He sacrificed his life so that his Knights may live. Now, we all hold the duty and privilege to continue our lives in his honor. Everything we do from here on out will be a reflection upon what he stood for. It is our responsibility to uphold the values he held so dear for as long as we all remain."

Samuel closed the tome. He paid one last look over towards his beloved sister Zariyana. Her face was calm, almost elated even. She appeared proud of the way her brother had spoken of their old friend and was content with the message they offered in his honor. The male Legend twin took another deep breath before addressing the gathered crowd as a whole. He lifted his arms in the air with both palms facing up towards the sky and stars above before ushering his final words.

"May his life be a blessing to you all."

The priest closed his eyes and clasped his hands together. He stepped off the altar and allowed the pallbearers to take their place at the front and retrieve the casket. Lena, Marcus, Ademski, Cayden, Saelena and even Lorelei stood and walked towards the casket. They composed themselves with every fragment of their available willpower. No one even batted an eye when a blood elf stood amongst the other proud races of the Alliance. Rayne's personality transcended trifle things like factions. Everyone he touched be it blue, green, or brown was on hand to celebrate his life.

A mass of tears began to fall. The ceremony was just about finished and it would be the last time they would all be in the paladin's collective presence. Marcus lead the other bearers with Lorelei carrying the front corner on the opposing side. No one gave a word of defiance when Lena had requested to take the back left corner. It was the heaviest section but the honor could be given to none other than Rayne's oldest friend.

The pallbearers exited the chapel slowly. Every citizen of Menethil and beyond in attendance watched in awe. Clouds began to swell overhead blocking the sun as it continued to rise. They traversed the wide field of grass towards the graveyard. Rayne was to be buried underneath his favorite tree in the courtyard. The Templar Knights were carrying out their final duty by laying their revered guild master to rest.

 _Melanie's Orchard_

 _Menethil Harbor_

The sun peaked high into the grey skies above. Blades of light penetrated through the thick clouds and shined magnificent light all across the land. The fields were eerily quiet. All of the workers had been given a day to mourn the loss of a treasured friend. Not even the insects made a single buzz amongst the ripened crops.

Samuel stood underneath a tall apple tree. He examined a piece of ruby-colored fruit in his hands but was careful not to pluck it from the branch. The priest brought it closer to his face and took a good whiff. The succulent aroma of nutmeg and cinnamon instantly infused his lungs.

"Fascinating."

"There you are," a stern voice called. "Why would you summon me to such a dreary place?"

The male Legend twin sighed before turning to face the beloved grumpy expression of his dear sister. Zariyana appeared more irritable than usual. It was unlike her to act so moody but given the fact that there was not a single soul besides them for at least a mile, they could both afford to be a little more candid with one another.

"Remarkable, isn't it?" Samuel began. He thought a bit of levity might help settle the mood. "Apples are amongst the most common fruit on all of Azeroth. Nearly every territory can easily grow the crop and build an orchard in no time and yet, amongst all of the other farmers in the world, these ones have seemed to evolved past their competitors and create something truly extraordinary."

The priest released the apple from his grip and dusted off his hands.

"The peasant's ingenuity can be quite impressive it would seem."

Zariyana's sour expression had slowly started to lighten. She looked upon her brother with warm eyes before adding her own

"Desperation is the mother of invention, after all," the female twin scoffed. "Is that why you called me out here? To marvel at the cleverness of the lower-class?"

"Not at all," he quickly answered shaking his head. Samuel's golden eyes steeled as he prepared to dive into depths not yet explored. "How are you feeling? Did you enjoy the ceremony?"

The female priest nodded and opened with a short smile.

"You were wonderful Samuel," she complimented. "I had never heard someone speak so eloquently before." Zariyana paused for a moment, taking in a delicious and deep breath before continuing. "You honored him well today."

Samuel did not respond. His expression stiffened and continued to look upon his twin with powerful and unwavering eyes. The female priest appeared to notice his shift in mood and immediately sought to change the subject.

"We mustn't tarry Samuel," his sister begged. "Father is waiting for us. He has brought quick passage for us back to Stormwind. Let's go home. It's - "

"That's not what I was asking," countered the male twin. He pushed the rims of his glasses up so that it sat tightly atop the bridge of his nose. "I will say it again. How are you feeling Zariyana?"

The female priest's eyes twitched upon hearing her brother speak her name aloud. It was brief but Samuel easily caught the tell through his deep focused stare.

"I -," she stammered. Zariyana composed herself once more before answering. "I don't know what you mean."

She was falling headfirst into his trap without even realizing it. The male twin decided to press the matter further hoping to get a genuine reaction from his precious sister.

"We've been friends with him and his family for years, battled alongside him against some of the most fearsome adversaries ever known to mortal men, and now, we have buried him with so many other fallen heroes," Samuel boldly stated. "I would think you, of all people, would have at least mourned him properly."

Zariyana clenched her teeth. Her fists tightened as newfound anger brewed within her agitated frame. Before she could even muster a word in her own defense, her brother had the gall to ask the obvious.

"Is that all that he meant to you?"

"Of course not!" The female twin barked. Her voice grew much louder than he anticipated. Perhaps his twin's guard had already cracked and he was working with an unfair advantage. "I was quite fond of Rayne just as much as the others. Why would you dare insinuate that –"

"Liar."

With a single word, Samuel stopped his sister's admission and drove her deeper and deeper into a tirade.

"What?!" Zariyana snapped. "How dare you speak to me in such a –"

" _Just as much as the others_?" The male twin rhetorically posed. "I don't think I've heard you spout such a bold lie in all my life."

The audacity at which Samuel continued to talk was chipping away at the female twin's waning patience. She almost wanted to slap the priest here and now but the fact that there was no one else around to share in his humiliation made it a low but rapidly growing priority.

"I believe it all started during the Feast of Winter Veil," the male twin began. He stared off into the sky filled with leaves, clouds, and the peaking sun. "Anyone could see how smitten you were after the dance ended. He must have left quite the impression. You did well to hide it from father but he was never one to look us in the eyes when he or we spoke. I, however, could not take mine off yours. The ride home looked as if it were excruciating."

Zariyana's brow furrowed. She was brewing with anger the likes of which he had never yet bore witness too. If his sister was upset before, she was swimming in a whole new pool of rage and treading water quickly. However, this did not deter Samuel in the slightest. It only seemed to encourage him.

"Every year since, I could see a glimmer in your eyes when preparing for the Feast," he added. "How it must have pained you when he stopped attending."

"Stop it," she hissed. Her tongue dripped with venom. Biting it would have been a better option but it appeared the female twin was in no position to stifle her feelings. Instead, she sought to end his insipid rant before it could continue further. "What are you trying to prove?"

The male twin did not falter under such a meek question. Instead, he continued as if ignoring Zariyana outright.

"For a while, I had thought you had forgotten all about him," Samuel continued. "Even after we finished our training and began our residency in the Cathedral of Light you did not seem to even bring him up despite the potential suiters and arrangements made in your honor. I had thought you had done the noble thing and _outgrown_ him."

He had hoped that little dig would continue to break down her robust guard. Just the mere notion of her brother speaking ill of the former paladin seemed to send her fury into overdrive. Samuel erred on the side of caution and decided to lighten the mood.

"We hadn't seen him in years and then, out of the blue, he arrives at our home with a personal request to join his newly formed guild," he laughed. "I was about to dismiss him outright but then you appeared and not only placated the idea, but even sought fit to convince me to join as well."

Samuel continued to chuckle as the memories flooded in. The harrowing band of misfit Knights had wrought nothing but embarrassment and disgrace to the residents of Northrend. The male priest was not keen on their guild master's plan and wouldn't actively participate in any of their follies but he also didn't try to hinder them either. There was a unique brilliance to his efforts, one that had been known to few but appreciated the world over.

"And so we did," continued Samuel. "We banded together and I watched you slip deeper and deeper under his spell. I had thought you would have seized the opportunity to actively pursue him intimately but for some reason, you kept your distance, treating him with little regard and respect throughout our time together."

She didn't offer even a single fleck of resistance. Whether his sister was just waiting until he was finished with bated breath to give him a true piece of her mind or there was still some light within her begging to be revealed would be known soon enough.

"Perhaps our time training had change you a bit," the male twin posed. "You were as cold as the stiffest peaks in Icecrown throughout it all."

Samuel's voice dimmed. His eyes sharpened and he peered upon the female priest with great ferocity as he unveiled the climax of this pressing story.

"That is until," her brother grimly began. "The events of Ulduar."

Zariyana's fist grew soft. The anger in her eyes started to subside. She ventured alongside her brother through the memories they shared and the few they didn't.

"I must commend you Zairyana," he praised. "You held back this entire time until his rejection was confirmed. Others would have played dirty and used whatever was at their disposal to take what they wanted."

Hearing her name being spoken again did not trigger the same level of animosity it once held. The female priest's guard had been completely lowered. There was nothing stopping her brother from revealing the final truth.

"You, on the other hand, fought nobly and with the most righteous of intentions," commended Samuel. "It wasn't until this very moment that I realized what you were truly after."

The female priest fingers loosened. Her head sulked and shoulders started to tremble. It appeared Zariyana did not want to face what was about to be said next but couldn't take herself away from it either.

"You did not wish to take his heart," Samuel added. "You wanted Rayne to offer it willingly."

"You knew…" She meekly spoke. "The entire time you were merely feigning ignorance, weren't you?"

The male twin laughed once more. Seeing him act in such just was unexpected but welcomed.

"I must admit, even I couldn't believe Lord Templar would turn down the marriage proposal," he snickered. "Father must have been surprised as well when we sent word. Though, he is not one to give up so easily; especially when it comes to protecting our name. To think he would go out and purchase this entire orchard as a dowry to entice Lord Templar to reconsider. Perhaps I underestimated him. However, that was not the end of this tragic tale."

This was the culminating moment. It was make or break time for Zariyana. Try as she might, there was nothing standing between her and the true feelings dwelling inside. They had been within her all along. Samuel had merely tried to extract it and allow her a moment, if ever so brief, to embrace them.

"I was deeply dismayed to hear the news of your official loss but it must have paled in comparison to your own feelings," Samuel countered. "However, nothing saddens me greater than to see my dear sister unable to express her emotions and shed a single tear at the passing of the first man who had stolen her heart."

The female priest's breathing grew faster and more erratic. She dipped her head even further hoping to bury any and all traces of these wretched sentiments from sight. Samuel had extracted the emotions within her she had never hoped to confront. He wasn't doing this to harm her. In reality, it was to help them both.

"Look around Zariyana," he pleaded. "There is no one here and nothing to hold you back."

Her voice cracked. Air squeaked into her lungs as she continued to shudder.

"Please," he begged. Samuel stood firm as he gave his beloved sister one final push. "Free yourself from these shackles of nobility. For once in your life, show me your true feelings."

Zariyana's head snapped up. A single tear had forced its way through her eye and quickly rolled down her cheek. Another quickly came on the opposite side and then another. The female priest's face was flooding as she thrust herself into her brother's chest, wrapped her arms around him and wailed like a mindless banshee into the sullen orchard. He immediately worried her throat was going to burn under all of the stress of her passionate cries.

The grief-stricken filled tears soaked Samuel's robes. His sister crumbled in his arms. He barely had the strength to keep her standing. She trembled atop him, pouring the deepest depths of her sorrow onto chest. All of the previous strength and restraint she had developed over the years had vanished. Zariyana could not contain herself any longer. She admitted everything to him, finally speaking the words that had been buried beneath her heart for far too long.

His sister was not the only one to know this angst. Samuel had too grown quite fond of their former guild master. They were twins after all. They shared more than just a name and blood. Anyone that could bring such immeasurable joy to someone he held so dear was someone to be not only admired but revered. He was just as stricken to see him go and proved it as a tear slid from his eye and onto his chin.

The Legend twins held each other between the sweet-smelling trees and mourned the loss of the paladin underneath the silver gaze of the tranquil skies.


	26. Chapter 25

_The Gilded Rose_

 _Stormwind City_

"Rayne Templar!"

The draenei immediately slammed the jug of fine ale and poured the burning brown liquid down his beefy throat in a single gulp. His endearing wife followed suit but did not share his speed nor enthusiasm.

"Another round," Ademski grunted through a spicy burp while pushing his tankard forward. "If you please."

Saelena offered a meek smile and did the same with her own mug. The bartender looked at them with a raised eyebrow as this was their tenth refill in the past hour. That didn't stop him from patronizing their request. They had plenty of coin to spare and by the looks of it, many more memories to drown.

The couple had traveled here after the funeral. They were awaiting an escort back to the Outlands. It was the only place they could really call home since there wasn't anything left for them here in Azeroth anymore. Honor Hold was more than willing to welcome them back even after their long absence of adventuring. The threat of the Burning Legion may have been temporarily quelled but they could always use the help of two seasoned warriors.

Time had seemingly come to a crawling stop. The draeneis arrived a couple hours earlier than intended and instead of finding some semblance of entertainment to pass the time, they desired to celebrate the memory of their fallen comrade the only way they knew how. The gratitude they wished to bestow upon him was immeasurable. Even if it were only for the briefest of moments, Ademski was able to listen to the angelic voice of his wife once more. That was a gift they had never expected to receive but were more than grateful to behold.

Ale splashed upon the table as the bartender pushed their full tankards forward. They simultaneously gripped the handles and lifted the jugs off the table while he quickly mopped up the mess beneath.

"Rayne Templar!" He boisterously shouted again.

They pounded their hearty drinks once more removing any trace of the burning nectar from sight. The tankards clunked atop the table in unison as they sighed in satisfaction.

"Hey!"

The two draenei turned around and stared upon the haggard fellow that called out to them. His face was rough and dirty as was the rest of his meager attire. He stood up from his table, sloshing what little remained of his drink as he stumbled towards them.

"I know that guy," the drunk patron slurred. His tongue appeared as if it were being held down with several anchors. "Biggest coward I'd ever seen before in my life."

Ademski's grip on the handle tightened. His brow furrowed as the piercing blue glow of his eyes bared down upon the stumbling man. Saelena's gracious hand fell atop his. She gave it a gentle squeeze and slowly shook her head as the drunkard approached.

"Let me tell you something," the patron slurred nearly tripping over himself as he pulled a stool and sat next to the draenei. His breath as hot, musky, and reeked of booze. "About Raaaaaaaayne Templar."

He plopped his half full tankard atop to table and stared deeply into the brown well of booze within.

"My family ran a farm out there in 'ol Farshire," he began. An untimed hiccup nearly spilt all of the ale he had worked so hard to consume out of his gut entirely. "Green Farm we called it. It was a nice place once, 'til it got overrun with undead."

The drunk took another hearty swig of his mug. Ademski listened to his tale with renewed patience thanks to his wife's gentle message.

"Then the king," he announced through another hiccup. "Built that fortress. And all the _heroes_ showed up."

The tankard trembled in the patron's grip. Memories of times long past flooded through his thoughts.

"What scant little soldiers the Alliance had sent wasn't nearly enough," he burped. "The damned undead were ruining everything. Our town, our farms, our crops. Everything, gone!"

He slammed his mug down. The entire table trembled underneath its fury.

"My father," the drunk hiccupped. "He begged them to send more help."

The patron took another generous swig of ale before continuing.

"No one would take the job," he growled. "Said it was beneath them. Buncha glory-hounds."

A calm mood settled over him. The drunk continued to stare into his drink stifling any burps our hiccups that would dare present themselves.

"Then, _he_ came along."

The drunk's eyes began to quiver. He pieced together the robust hero of memory through garbled speech.

"Ain't never seen adventurer like that before," burped the patron. "Big 'ol blonde fellow. Shining armor like he ain't ever spent a day out in the fields like the others. Handsome too. Probably some rich boy here on daddy's coin tryin' to have fun and tell stories about slayin' monsters and dragons for his friends back home. That idiot should have stayed there. He definitely didn't belong here."

He swirled the tankard along the table for a bit and watched the alcohol turn into a small vortex before continuing.

"My stupid father," the drunk scowled. "We were so desperate. He didn't care who showed up. Anyone would do."

The patron flooded his throat with another good drink of booze.

"So here comes this hero with his burly bald friend beside him," he spat through another deep hiccup. "They looked skilled enough. We thought it would only take them an hour or two. That bastard spent half a day roaming through our town before he even got to the mine."

His body began to quivering and breathing erratic. The drunk was actually starting to laugh as he shared the memories.

"They ran out of there just as soon as they went in," he chuckled. "Like a dog with his tail between his legs. Being chased by all the undead in Farshire."

The laughing soon stop as drunkard's eyes sharpened. Despite consuming a good amount of booze, he still could express such powerful thoughts.

"I remember him hurrying passed my father screaming 'I'm sorry' over and over again," the patron grimaced. "He tried to stop him and get him to finish what he promised. Some _hero_ he turned out to be. What a joke."

Ademski turned his head slightly and glanced at his wife. She continued to hold onto his arm and reassured him that everything would be alright.

"The undead continued to plague our farm," continued the drunkard. "No one else came to help despite my father offering every last coin we had. Whether someone took the job or didn't, we were ruined either way."

The patron took a deep breath and sighed. His expression started to soften. Every breath that escaped his lungs was slow and controlled.

"After a few days, the strangest thing happened," the drunkard spoke with renewed spirit. "All of the undead that lurked about our town started to thin out. Within a week, they were all gone. We all thought it was a miracle. Maybe someone in the night came in to save us or they just got bored and went to go bother someone else."

He grabbed his mug and peered at the small pool of booze splashing along the bottom.

"My father grabbed his pitchfork and with a few volunteers, searched every inch of Farshire," added the patron. "The undead hadn't left a trace of their sickening presence anywhere. The only thing they found was a buncha holy symbols drawn about every building, home, and all over the mine.

The drunk picked the tankard up. Its bounced back and forth in his unsteady grip and hovered near his awaiting lips.

"That cheeky bastard. He spent all day avoiding those monsters and consecrated the entire town," he smiled. "Father said it was a good thing too. If any 'ol hero came in and killed the undead they would have plagued all of our crops and farmland with their disgusting bodies. We may have been safe but our town would have been ruined."

The patron brought the mug to his face and smiled.

"We asked around for a while looking for him," he continued. "Father wanted to thank him and pay him his reward as promised. Never did find him though."

Ale flowed into his gut as he thrust the mug upwards.

"That's why I'm here," coughed the drunk as he finished the last drop of ale from the tankard. "Someone told us he lives here in the 'ol Eastern Kingdoms. Dad's big on paying his debts. Sent me all the way out here to find him and give him the reward as promised."

The patron tugged on a hefty sack of coins. It seemed much more than any peasant would normally carry. They must have really wanted to show their gratitude. A small tear formed in the corner of his eye.

"I started asking around as soon as I get off the boat," he whimpered. Tears flooded from his eye and spilled atop the table. "They told me he was dead. Died protecting a dragon I hear."

The sobs stopped abruptly. His mood swung entirely as laughter filled his throat.

"Can you believe that?" He chuckled. "I thought he came here to fight dragons, not save them."

A still air brew between them. The stench of remorse was thick, almost palatable.

"Now," winced the drunk. His painful crying resumed forcing his once bright expression to turn dark. "I can't even thank him. Thank him for all he's done. And tell him I'm sorry."

He pushed the mug aside.

"I thought he was a coward," he sobbed. "I cursed his name for so long. But he still saved us."

Saelena tugged on her husband's arm. It took everything he had in him not to grin like an idiot upon hearing the conclusion to this poor man's tale.

"And now," the patron blubbered. "He's gone. Farshire is thriving and he'll never know how much we love him for saving it."

The draenei motioned towards the bartender to fill all three tankards.

"My friend," Ademski boldly smiled. He wrapped his arm over the drunk's shoulder and pulled him in closer with a big hug and motioned for him to take hold of the full mug of ale. "I promise you, he can here you now."

The draenei grabbed his tankard. Saelena smiled and reciprocated in kind.

"Show him your gratitude," grinned Ademski. "Say it loudly now. Let us honor him together!"

All three raised their mugs into the air as the two shouted proudly in unison.

"Rayne Templar!"

 _The Violet Citadel_

 _Dalaran_

"DAMN IT!"

Dozens of scrolls and parchments scattered across the table. The mage furiously thrust them off his work area and with a snap of his fingers, burned the remnants of their useless forms until they were nothing more than small tufts of ash like the hundred others that had failed him prior.

Cayden tumbled backwards. His body collided with the towering bookshelf lining all of the walls inside this small and circular study room. Tomes spilled from their resting places around the mage. He stared angrily at the trinket that had become the bane of his existence for nearly a week.

Light's Redemption laid upon the table. The majestic weapon continued to refute the mage's best efforts. It was one botched incantation after another. All of his labors thus far have been futile. Nothing he's done has brought Cayden a single step closer to uncovering the weapon's secrets. Even the Archmage Ronin's suggestions have proven to be useless. The warhammer once wielded by his beloved guild master remained still and continued to taunt him.

The door to the study room immediately burst open. Standing in the hall was an orange-haired young mage wearing blue and gold robes with small lines of white along her waist and skirt. Her worried eyes pierced through the thick clouds of smoke. She frantically searched the area for the cause of this disturbance.

"What's all this racket?!" The female mage cried out. "What's going on?!"

The mage peeked up and saw one of his former teachers, Sorceress Kaylana looking upon him with worried eyes. He sulked, throwing his hood over his head and slid down the bookshelf. Cayden fell on his backside and clutched his face. She immediately gasped and rushed towards him.

"Cayden!"

Kaylana collapsed to her knees beside him. She peered into the shadowy hood and continued calling out to the mage.

"I can't do it," he shuddered. Cayden's breathing was erratic and forced. Every word trembled from his lips as he continued. "I've tried everything. Nothing's worked."

"What do you mean?" Inquired the sorceress. She grabbed him by the shoulders and demanded answers. "What have you been – "

Kaylana turned her head sharply and looked upon the lone ornamented warhammer sitting on the table. The golden trim along its head and proud lion's symbol in the center screamed this was a weapon belonging to a paladin. As soon as that was realized, the sorceress fretted alongside her magus companion.

"I'm sorry Cayden," she remorsefully spoke. "I know how much he meant to you."

"It's not just that," the mage countered. His voice grew more vile with every exhumed breath. "He counted on me. And I failed him."

Cayden's fingers dug into his face. Even the biting pain of his fingernails clawing into the soft tissues of flesh couldn't begin to quell the torment brewing through his heart.

"I should have known that weapon was no good!" Cayden snapped. "I could have stopped him. I _should_ have stopped him. If only I knew then what was going to happen. I – "

Tears streaked down his cheeks. The mage cringed has he continued to dump his sorrow into the room without restraint.

"I should have stopped him."

Cayden's sob's tore through the sorcerer's heart. She leaned in closer. Her hands slid around the mage's shoulders and across his back.

"Why?!"

The explosive outburst threw Kaylana back. She immediately rose to her feet and slipped backwards. Her body smacked the study table with a profuse thud. The warhammer rattled a bit from the excessive force as Cayden continued to rant.

"Why would _he_?!" The blubbering mage stammered. "And why would _it_?!"

Cayden's rationale was lost in a sea of tears. Words continued to spill through his open weeping. The sorceress trembled alongside him. Blood quivered through her veins as Kaylana attempted to impart any wisdom she could muster to help reprieve her companion's sorrow.

"What good would come from continuing on like this Cayden?" She pleaded with the mage while taking a single step forward. "Even if you learned everything, there is nothing we can do change the past."

"I'm not trying to change the past!" He fired back. The red hot temper Cayden was known for was billowing into the tiny room without restraint. He stood up and approached the sorceress with a blazing inferno burning beneath his eyes. "I just want to understand it!"

The mage clenched his fists and stared into Kaylana's shuddering expression. Fear slowly enveloped her. She was no longer standing before a beloved companion but instead, of a terrifying magus on the very brink of collapse. Cayden sensed her worry and slowly stifled the brewing fury bubbling inside of him. He took a step back and hung his head in shame.

"If I could just figure it out," the mage whimpered. His mind rifled through the possibilities. They all led him down the same conclusion he so desperately south. "Maybe I could prevent this from happening again."

The sorceress reached out to him. Her hand gentle fell atop his shoulder. Kaylana leaned in and hoped to rationalize his feelings with a bit of logic. They were mages after all. Logic was one of the principles of their discipline.

"Have you considered asking for some outside assistance?" She implored. "This is a paladin's weapon. The arcane arts may not be sufficient to understand it's complexity. Only wielders of the light can –"

"Don't you think I've tried that?!" Snapped the mage as he swatted her hand away. "I've been calling upon them for days. Dozens of Argent Crusaders have stepped through this door to help me try and understand the power within the weapon."

Cayden's fists slammed upon the table as he continued the bear down upon the sorceress.

"None of them have helped!" He grimaced. "They all sensed _nothing_! It was as if the damned thing was just a hunk of steel in their hands!"

The staunch inferno blazing through his eyes was immediately quenched upon seeing the distressed look upon Kaylana's face once more. He continued to unjustly take out his frustrations upon her. The mage knew she was only trying to help but this conversation made it seem like he was taking two steps back instead of the one final one he needed to in order to overcome this nagging sense of guilt and frustration once and for all. She was merely trying to offer additional guidance which made Cayden realize that the sorceress was not the problem here.

"I'm just not good enough," he sobbed. "What the hell did he see in me anyways?"

Cayden slipped back. His body fell into Kaylana's clutching grip and she pulled him into a tight hug before he fully collapsed. The mage's frame shivered atop hers. All of the flames of anger surrounding him had been buried underneath a frigid lake of grief. The sorceress desperately sought anything at all to help ease his growing distress. She knew Cayden was a brilliant and meticulous researcher. There would have been nothing he would have missed even in his own state of mourning. However, in all of his infinite intelligence, he may have simply been looking about this the wrong way.

"Perhaps, this has nothing to do with the warhammer Cayden."

The mage convulsed in his arms with that statement. Kaylana knew she was on the right path. The answer was staring them right in the face. They merely had to acknowledge it.

"They say great weapons impart the will of those who wield them," she continued. "I may not have known Rayne as well as you have but…" The sorceress sensed her throat choking upon the words she attempted to speak. "Maybe, this is what he _wanted_. And the hammer merely assisted in achieving that desire."

The mage's eyes widened. His throat went dry as the agonizing answer Cayden had hunted so frantically had finally come to light.

"He knew…"

Tears flooded his vision. Light's Redemption blurred before him. The mage's hands reached up and clutched Kaylana. His fingers shook erratically as he embraced the sorceress and pulled her tightly.

"He knew the entire time," sniveled Cayden. "And he still…"

The mage buried his head into Kaylana's shoulder. His sobs stained the finely threaded cloth robes. As embarrassing as this would be for anyone to bear witness to, Cayden had finally stopped caring about his own reputation and well-being. This was one of the very first things he learned from his first and only guild master.

"There has never been a man more selfless," he winced as the tormenting memories flooded through his mind. "Azeroth didn't deserve him."

The sorceress squeezed him gently. Her lips trickled near his ears as she tenderly whispered.

"You may be right Cayden," implored Kaylana. "But it does deserve _you_. Rayne would not want you to continue living your life like this."

They continued to stand together holding one another. The mage's tears flowed without restraint. For the first time in his life, Cayden felt as if he had no direction. Though he was still an apprentice under the Archmage Ronin, fate had seen it fit to send him back right to where he began. His voice broke as he tried to speak clearly while his mind was clouded in doubt.

"How?" Implored the mage. "How would he want me to live then?"

Kaylana clutched him tightly. She continued to whisper softly into his ears hoping her heart would reach Cayden's.

"I cannot answer that for you," the sorceress replied. She tried fighting back her own tears but upon ushering in this last thought, Kaylana could no longer stop it from flowing. "But I do know that everything Rayne sacrificed was to give you the opportunity to find that yourself."

The two mages continued to hold onto one another. Their emotions poured through like a violent waterfall. Cayden was the first to fall to his knees tugging the sorceress along with him. He couldn't help but be reminded of Samuel's final words during the eulogy. Every day after this was a gift bestowed upon him by the honored guild master of the Templar Knights. Each member was given a piece of his life so that they may continue to live. No matter what Cayden Melton did from here on out would be a reflection upon that man. He vowed to himself to do exactly that and become a light upon his world that would forever seek to shine as brightly as demonstrated by the noble paladin he had the pleasure of knowing.


	27. Chapter 26

_Old Town_

 _Stormwind City_

Elated laughter filled the streets. The sun was radiant, pouring all of its delicious heat upon the denizens below. Stormwind's oldest district was full of joy and vigor. The war in Northrend had finally ended. All of its heroes had returned home to celebrate a job well done. The townsfolk were more than happy to accommodate them. Their tales of triumphant battles and hard-fought victories had inspired the citizens beyond all imaginable belief.

Weasel casually walked through the busy roads. A ragged black cloak was draped over his head and shoulders. He stuffed his hands inside of the pockets of his dark leather armor and proceeded east through the town. The gnome kept his head low. He didn't pass a single glance to any baker, shop-owner, or other nearby residents. With his shady attire, Weasel was sure to stick out like a sore thumb in this jovial area. However, most citizens tended to keep their heads held high when feeling euphoric. No one seemed to pass even a wandering eye to the gnome as he continued to wade through the crowd.

"Unhand her your fiend!"

The boisterous young shout caught Weasel's immediate attention. His eyes snapped towards the source of the sound. The gnome carefully inched his hand toward one of the stiletto daggers attached to his waist.

"Prepare to face the light's justice!"

A group of children swinging thin branches and crudely carved sticks darted through the streets. Weasel breathed a sigh of relief as his initial trepidations were thankfully proven wrong. The gnome wasn't one to regularly get involved in such trite affairs. He would have easily let the situation pass him by without a second thought. The fact that his immediate instinct was to assist troubled his thoughts for a few moments. Despite his previous reservations, Weasel continued to watch the kids play for a few more moments.

"No fair!" A small brown-haired child protested. "You said I get to be the paladin this time!"

"No!" Another black-haired girl interrupted. "You were the paladin last time! I get to be the paladin!"

"Do not fret King Varian!" Proclaimed the first child. He ignored the pleas of the other two entirely and continued to boldly swing his imaginary blade up and down the streets. "I shall save the dragon and Azeroth!"

The children vanished through the crowd. Weasel could still hear their chants throughout the boisterous streets. A smirk touched upon his lips. He continued to walk east trying his damnedest to get rid of it.

Sounds of combat soon fell over the area. Weasel had reached the end of the road. A massive keep made up of white stone and ancient masonry stood before the gnome. The Alliance Command Center was the base of operations for all of Stormwind's military. Though most of their soldiers and most prominent officers were sent on leave after the war effort had come to an end, a thin crew of experienced veterans were still on hand to keep watch over the city and train members of the outstanding militia.

Weapons clashed against the wooden training dummies with great ferocity. While most others were celebrating the newfound peace, a select few were determined to keep their blades sharp for the next conflict that would eventually present itself. Weasel paid the volunteers and veterans no mind. He casually walked through the training grounds and keep as if nothing was out of the ordinary. One of the very first thing he was taught when he began learning espionage was the easiest way to blend into any environment was to pretend like you belonged there.

The gnome swiftly worked his way through the barracks and peeked out the doorway to find a white stone archway. A pair of casual looking citizens stood guard near the passage. One nonchalantly flipped a coin into the air while the other was busy digging for gunk and grime underneath his fingernails. Both were wearing simple brown linen pants and unmatched leather vests. To the untrained eye, they would appear to be just a couple of lazy militia members. Weasel knew better than to fall for something so simple.

A single caltrop slipped into the gnome's hand. This handy device was great in large numbers but for its purposes today, he needed to make sure it had a loud singing voice. Weasel chucked the tiny weapon high into the air. It landed atop the crenellation with a short but distinct clang and continued to dance atop the battlement for several moments.

The militia members instinctively looked up. Their hands had barely begun to traverse towards the hidden daggers behind their waist before the gnome made his move. Weasel dashed between them. His feet sped across the ground without so much as a whisper. The gnome turned the corner and planted his back against the wall between a couple of small shrubs.

An open field of grass and dirt separated Weasel from the archway and his intended destination. He could have easily snuck through the exterior of the Command Center and worked his way around the surrounding trees but the gnome didn't have it in him to exert so much effort for such a minute reward.

Weasel plucked the fuse from a saronite bomb in his back pouch. He tied one end to a small rock procured from the nearby ground and ignited the other by snapping his fingers that had a thin layer of flint and steel carefully sewn into the leather gauntlet. The gnome threw the lit string towards the opposite side of the archway. It hissed madly as it soared. The militia members immediately darted towards the traveling sound. Their boots loudly slapped upon the dirt and grass which gave Weasel more than enough cover to make his away across the open path.

At the base of the opposing mountain in the east stood a small building. It was ragged and decrepit from the outside. Unlike most of the other structures in Old Town, this one had a worn beige roof with a large stone tower rising from the only entrance leading in. The gnome casually stepped through. He could still hear the whizzing of the fuse just outside the doorway and the bumbling pair of new agents desperately seeking to silence it.

The interior of this building was simple and for all intents and purposes, boring. At first glance, no one would think it was anything more than a secondary outpost for the Alliance military. However, to the select few that dwelled within, this place was so much more. Kingdoms rising and empires falling were typical conversations within the walls of this plain establishment. There was no better place to plan for Azeroth's future than the headquarters to Stormwind Intelligence, or SI:7 as it is referred to by its esteemed members.

Weasel stepped inside and casually made his way towards a nearby table. His presence was immediately sensed by the few dwelling within. The man in charge was the first to voice his concern. He was covered in blue leather armor with dull metal trim along the ridges. Short black hair parted straight down the center and shined underneath the glazing light of the sun from a nearby window.

"Hey!" He furiously called. "Where the hell did you come –"

"Long time no see Tony."

The gnome pulled out a chair and plopped himself atop of it. He propped his short legs against the edge and leaned back casually with his hands folded behind his head. Weasel passed a casual glance towards Lord Tony Romano. He was one of the higher-ranking officers within SI:7, mostly responsible for training new recruits and preparing them for missions. His dedication to the craft was legendary but it would appear that his latest efforts were sorely lacking.

"Looks like you need to step up your game," Weasel casually mentioned. "Security is a bit lax if you ask me."

"Glimwack?" The SI:7 veteran gasped. His hands fell from the hilts of his sheathed daggers as he continued to stare in bewilderment. "Is that you?!"

"You're kidding?!" Another voice shouted. A second human came blitzing out from an adjacent office. He shared similar armor and facial hair as the veteran Romano but his scalp was completely barren from the eyebrows up. Arthur Huwe was a trainer much like Tony himself only a rank below. He shared in his veteran's expression as he rushed to the table to witness the surprising news with his own eyes. "Weasel's here?!"

"And here I thought you retired to become an adventurer like the other ransacks seeking glory outside these walls," laughed Romano. "Did you really have to sneak in here? You could have just given the two outside the code. Even your old one would still work."

"Where's the fun in that?" The gnome shrugged. "Besides, I wanted to see if my services were still wanted around here. After watching those two clowns outside, now I know they're _needed_."

"Wait a second," Arthur posed. "Are you seriously coming back to SI:7?"

The announcement seemed as much of a shock to these two as if they were both simultaneously declared King of Azeroth. Weasel's talents, skills, and achievements were well known and celebrated within these very headquarters. Losing him to the throws of adventure was a might big blow to their organization. His seeming return would definitely reinvigorate their ranks. Arthur and Tony shot each other a quick look before addressing the gnome once more.

"Well, yea, we could definitely use the help," the veteran agent started. "But why the sudden change of –"

"Good," Weasel nodded. He folded his arms over his chest and rocked the chair back and forth. "Let's get started then. Scouting, tracking, espionage, assassination; whatever it is, I'll take it. The sooner the better."

The two SI:7 agents stared at each other in awe. This was almost like something out of a dream. They never expected someone as famed as Glimwak Manifico to return right back to where he left off so abruptly those many months ago. Instead of raising a word in protest, they simply shrugged and shared a mutual smile.

"I've got just the thing that'll be right up your alley," grinned Romano. "We've received reports of strange activity northeast of Loch Modan. Looks like that cult that was making waves up there in Northrend were spotted in the vicinity."

Weasel continued to rock in the chair as he continued.

"This is a big one," the veteran agent reiterated. "We're talking months, maybe years of surveillance and reporting. I've got a team of recently graduated recruits that could definitely use the guidance of one of our most seasoned agents. You'll get to dive in headfirst and command your own unit and they'll be sure to learn a lot from you as well."

The gnome nodded almost uninterested in anything spoken after the first sentence. This came to a surprise to everyone within an earshot. Weasel was known for working alone. He's never been a part of a team or had a partner in all of his years of service to SI:7. Something was definitely odd with the gnome's behavior. Lord Romano sighed at the thought. He knew things couldn't be this easy. The veteran agent took a deep breath and prepared himself for the battle to come.

"I suppose you'd like to negotiate your salary now that you're a big-time hero," Romano groaned. "Let's go into Mathias' office. I'm sure he'd be willing to –"

"Room and board plus ten gold weekly stipend."

The veteran agent gasped and took a step back.

"Are you kidding?!" Arthur huffed. "That's the starting pay for new recruits."

Something was definitely off. The two SI:7 members could smell it in the air thicker than a cloud of black lotus dust. They immediately drew their daggers and prepared to engage the gnome.

"Alright!" Romano spat. "Who sent you?!"

"What the -?!" Fumbled Weasel as he slammed his chair upon all four of its legs. "Just what in the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Shut up!" Countered Huwe. "You think you'd just waltz in here and learn our secrets?! You're clever but completely foolish if you thought we'd believe Glimwack taking anything less than twice an officer's pay!"

The gnome sighed. He didn't bother reaching for his own weapons or even mustering any sort of defense.

"It's me you idiots," he droned. "Or did you think I'd forget the time that you blew an eight-week operation because you overslept in the Goldshire brothel Arthur."

Huwe's eyes widened as his weapons lowered.

"I never told anyone that."

"And Tony," Weasel pointed. "How can anyone overlook the mission where you forgot your belt and your trousers –"

"Don't say it," begged the veteran agent while sheathing his weapons. "I believe you Glimwack."

The two Si:7 agents stood in awe of what they had just witnessed. If they hadn't seen it with their own eyes and heard it with their own ears, neither of them would have believed that the Glimwack Manifico was not only willing to return to his previous role but also without even putting an inch of a fight in regards to pay.

"What's the matter Weasel?" Arthur giggled. "Has adventuring made you soft all of the sudden?"

"Not soft," the gnome shrugged. "Just reminded me what's important. That's all."

He took another deep breath. It was hard enough leaving that murky and humid environment and saying goodbye to the few people he would ever dare call friends. Weasel wanted to rid himself of those memories by burying himself in work. He wasn't sure how long it was going to take or if he could ever forget even half of those dismal thoughts but at the very least, his energy would be much better served as an instrument of death instead of a statue of mutual grief.

"Oh yea?" Tony further probed. "And what exactly is so important that you're willing to go against your intrinsic nature?"

Weasel leaned back in his chair and stared aimlessly at the roof. He knew exactly just how easily someone could fold underneath the weight of something so silly like reputation. It took a lot of strength to go against the grain. While he was older than nearly every other member of the Templar Knights, there was still plenty of things he learned from that dumb blonde kid.

"Not gold."

 _Pyrewood Village_

 _Silverpine Forest_

The caravan came to a slow halt along the dirt laden path. Marcus Bloodblade stepped out of the carriage tugging a hefty brown sack over his shoulder and with the titansteel-forged mace tightly slung across his back. He gave the wooden cart two hearty slaps signaling the driver that he had safely departed. The wagon turned around and headed north back towards the village. It was still bright and early so they'd make back well before sunset. The warrior was hoping he'd reach his destination on foot in similar time.

Only a few brave souls dared to trek anywhere south of Pyrewood. There wasn't much to see and even less to do around these parts. They were the only standing Alliance village this side west of Hillsbrad and not too many daring folks would ever venture this far away from the reach and protection of their army.

The sun was as unforgiving as ever. Its piercing rays dug into the warrior's tanned flesh. Spending all of that time up north had hardened his already rough skin and then some. The clawing bite of the cold was much more welcomed than the searing tickle of light bearing down over him. Sweat quickly rose from his pours and began trickling down all of the tight curves of his muscles as he continued down the dirt path.

Hours passed and Marcus walked along the empty road with nothing but the sun overhead and what remained of his meager possessions. The campaign in Northrend was finally over. Everyone celebrated the end of that horrific war and finally were free to return to their normal and otherwise boring lives. Soldiers that survived battle after gruesome battle were rewarded with the time off and a hero's welcome in their hometowns and villages. The warrior didn't have much to return to and usually opted for a new mission instead of an extended vacation. After quitting the military life for the path of adventurer, taking up the old blue and gold tabard didn't seem like such a worthwhile option anymore. He was longing for something else; something _nostalgic_.

Ancient stone blocks rose from the end of the road. The grey brick wall standing nearly one hundred feet high famed the world over was coming into view. It was erected after the end of the Second War. The nation of Gilneas had refused to assist the forces of Stormwind during the first incursion of the orcish invaders but were more than willing to lend their armies and support to Lordaeron and the newly forged Alliance. Tensions grew after debate sprung deciding how to handle the orcish prisoners and Genn Greymane decided to isolate himself and his people from everyone else by erecting this impenetrable barrier. This decision may have been a bit on the extreme side but that really depends on which side of the fence you happened to be standing on.

A massive portcullis forged of wood and steel was the only reasonably entryway into the city. The wall itself stood lifeless and dull. It had served its purpose well to block any potential invaders but little has been done to ensure its maintenance and upkeep. Not a single soldier stood guard in any visible section. Marcus had originally contemplated returning here and joining the Gilneas army but after spending so much time exploring Azeroth and gaining experience with some of the finest men the world has ever known, it seemed like such a waste to spend the remainder of your days cooped up behind a giant stone wall.

The warrior reached the end of the road. He dropped the sack upon the ground and began rifling through the contents. Aside from a second set of clothes and a couple days' worth trail rations, the only thing that remained was a long length of rope with a sturdy metal grappling hook attached to one end. Marcus didn't think it would have been as easy as knocking on the door and with no one else around to ask, he opted for additional means of entry.

Steel whizzed beside the warrior as he revved up the grappling hook. Marcus chucked it high into the air. The black claws tore through the winds with great ferocity. Metal whined in defiance as it pinged off the wall about ten yards away from reaching the top. The hook plunged down towards the ground. It smacked the dirt path with a dense thud before the warrior's feet.

A great sigh exited Marcus' lungs. He believed he had given it all of the effort required. The warrior picked the grappling hook up and prepared another throw. A stiff grunt exited his lungs as he fired it straight back up. It sped upward without restraint blitzing past gravity's reach and ascending towards the top. The hook slowed nearly ten feet from the top before it bounced harmlessly off the side once again and began its descent towards Marcus' annoyed stance.

This charade went on for longer than the warrior had anticipated. Eventually, when the grappling hook did reach the top, it was unable to latch on to the parapet. The constant droning of metal slapping steel was starting to wane on his patience. Swimming across the channel near the coast was a last resort. The scant few pieces of armor he wore would have been sufficient for a short dip but any extended travel in those freezing waters would not bode well for his continued health. Even after all of those initial failures, Marcus was not ready to give up just yet.

"What in the bloody 'ell?!"

The sharp voice yelled from above sent shivers down the warrior's spine. He hadn't heard that damn accent in years and spent much of his youth getting rid of his own during the First War.

"Hey!" Another voice shouted. "Who goes there?!"

Marcus ceased his futile efforts. He slowly started to collect the length of rope and began rolling it into a more compact form while continuing to ignore the abrasive guards at the top of the wall.

"Move along now!" Demanded the first guard. "Less we pump you full of 'oles!"

The warrior tucked his gear into the brown linen sack and looked up. Two of Gilnean's finest stood against the parapets holding a pair of rugged brown crossbows. Even from all the way down there Marcus could see the cakes of dust along the wooden weapons. The warrior knew their range better than most who wielded them but decided to appease their request anyways by raising his hands in a submission.

"Put your weapons down," Marcus ordered. "I'm not an invader. I just want to go home."

"Bullshit!" The second guard snapped. He drawled the initial part of that word far longer than he liked. The horrid accent didn't help things either. "No one's been outside 'dis wall in years!"

"And we would know!" Added the first. They kept their crossbows trained on the warrior's unmoving frame. "We've been standing watch 'ere for decades!"

"I can tell," laughed Marcus while casually pointing towards their weapons. "If you ever had to actually use them, you'd know that the effective lethal range of a crossbow that small is no more than thirty yards."

"What?!"

The guards simultaneously looked at their weapons with a befuddled look across their brow. Anger soon crept in as the first readied his aim square across the warrior's chest.

"I'll show you lethal!"

Cords snapped violently as he pulled the trigger. The arrow frantically launched from the crossbow with a sickening velocity. It plummeted towards Marcus veering ever so slightly to the right before embedding itself into the ground nearly five yards away.

"See?" The warrior sighed. He lowered his arms and cross them over his chest. "Now will you let me pass? I've got some old business to attend to."

"Just go away!" Pleaded the second. "There's nottin' 'ere for you anymore!"

"Actually, there is," Marcus countered. "I'm looking for Oliver and Margo Setson in Stormglen Village."

The first guard pulled back immediately upon hearing that name.

"I know 'im," he gasped. "'E's a chicken farmer. My sister married 'is neighbor last summer. Used to 'ave a young lad with 'im that 'ad gone missin' like twenty years ago."

"Actually," corrected the warrior. "It's closer to thirty now."

"How in the bloody 'ell do you know Olly Setson?!" The second barked with the crossbow steadily aimed downward despite its proven history of ineffectiveness.

Marcus let out a great sigh. He was hoping it wouldn't have to come to this but after waiting years to get to this moment, waiting another few hours wouldn't be so bad.

"If you're not going to let me in, would you send him a message for me?"

The two guards looked at each other and pondered the warrior's request. A few moments passed and then they seemingly nodded in unison before returning their gaze downward.

"Go a'ead!"

A grin found its way to Marcus' lips. He couldn't help but feel a little happy knowing how far he'd come and what awaited him beyond this wall. It was a reunion a long time coming. He just hoped the old man wasn't stubborn enough to keep the grudge going this long.

"Tell him his boy Marcus has finally come home to roost."


	28. Chapter 27

_Templar Keep_

 _Menethil Harbor_

Wood crackled beneath the blazing orange fire within the nearby pit. Lord Nigel Templar tossed another chunk into the flames nestled in a neat pile along with the others. The living room began to warm to a more comfortable temperature. His thin skin and bones couldn't suffer another harsh winter as the one that had come to pass. Spring may have been just on the horizon and summer not too far after but it didn't stop him from clutching the comforting warmth when he desired it.

A week had passed since the funeral. The old man could hardly believe such little time had gone by. It only seemed like yesterday that he had spoken with Raymond within the very halls of the Silver Enclave. Lord Nigel knew the perils of war better than most. He had lived through enough of them to understand their inherent risks. Death is a natural part of battle. Despite experiencing the horrors first hand, the old man never once thought this was how everything would end. The empty mantel atop the fireplace did nothing but taunt him.

The keep was too damn quiet for his liking. What little remained of the Templar soldiers were on mandatory leave. Their captain, Lena Sherwood, refused several times before the old man demanded she take some time to rest even going as far as threatening to dismiss her from her command. He knew all too well that she was just trying to keep herself distracted. A few days of proper mourning would do someone as hardened and abrasive as her some good.

Hardy knocks rapped upon the nearby door. Lord Nigel immediately took his attention away from the flames and looked upon one of his servants standing idly near the entryway. Her expression was timid and repressed. All of the other attendees in Templar Keep had been seemingly walking on eggshells for the last few days. They all feared even the slightest slip up now that the young master has passed. No one had taken it harder than the Lord himself despite still being able to keep his composure in front of them.

"Excuse me, my lord," the maid called. "Pardon the imposition."

"It's quite alright," nodded the old man. "What can I do for you?"

"You," she nervously started. "You have visitors, my lord."

"A visitor?"

Lord Nigel raised an eyebrow. No one had come by to see him in the last few days. A few friends and old acquaintances had stopped by after the funeral. Danath Trollbane had even taken a leave from his post in Honor Hold and stayed in the keep during the entire endeavor. He had only just left two days ago and since then, no one else had bothered to disturb him. These new guests surprisingly itched at his curiosity.

"Please, send them in."

The maid took a step back and cleared the path. Radiant locks of shimmering purple hair shined like illustrious gems through the nearby sconces. A simple blue dress covered her slender form and complimented her smooth lavender skin. The lustrous glow of her humble silver eyes fell upon the old man as she stepped inside the room. A thin strap of leather was wrapped over her chest holding an ornamented scabbard.

"Narula…?"

The night elf smiled and greeted Lord Templar with a short bow.

"Forgive my sudden intrusion," she politely begged. "May I have a few moments of your time?"

The old man walked over and immediately wrapped his arms around her. He ignored Narula's question outright and instead opted to answer it with a gentle squeeze. Though she seemingly towered over him in height, Lord Templar had no qualms about reaching up to properly greet her.

"My child," the old man began. "It is good to see you again."

"The feeling is mutual, Lord Templar," replied the night elf while reciprocating his embrace. "It has been too long."

"Indeed it has," he smiled.

They carefully pulled back from one another. The old man's heart felt a renewed sense of elation. However, upon seeing the grimness slowly befalling the night elf's expression, he could sense that this was not going to finish as pleasantly as it began.

"I was hoping to speak with you after the funeral," spoke Lord Templar. "You can imagine my surprise when we didn't see you amongst the others."

"Part of my reason for coming today is to beg your forgiveness," she began. "Please, allow me to offer my sincerest apologies, Lord Templar."

The old man was taken back at Narula's gracious words. He had only mentioned her absence in jest to help alleviate the tension that would soon grow between them.

"Please, my child," the old man defended. "There is nothing to forgive. It was an emotional time for everyone. And we all have our own ways for dealing with grief."

Her eyes started to dim. Narula's gaze fell downward as she continued to sulk. Lord Templar could sense apprehension radiating through her silken skin. It was thick enough to be cut with a knife. One would be hard pressed to forget all of the times shared between Raymond and the night elf throughout their childhood. Fate can be cruel but destiny was a whole other demon in and of itself.

"Besides, I cannot begin to imagine your own suffering," he meekly pointed out. "All things considering, that is."

The night elf sheepishly nodded. She reached behind her back and lifted the weapon strapped across. The blade of the Templar slowly presented itself before the old man. Narula graciously passed it towards its former owner. A scowl fell upon his face.

"What is that?"

Lord Templar turned away in disgust. His eyes peered into the fire while a new inferno of anger began to rip through his heart.

"I told Raymond I would not accept that weapon from anyone else's hand," he growled. "It should have been buried with him."

"Please," the night elf begged. "Raymond wished to return this blade to its home. It was one of his last requests."

A spark pricked against Lord Templar's spine. He turned around with great haste and faced Narula once more.

"You," gasped the old man. "You were with him at the end? And heard his last words?"

The night elf softly sighed and nodded. Her expression darkened. The memories of that haunting moment appeared to be flashing before her solemn silver eyes. Lord Nigel took a step towards her begrudgingly accepted the longsword. He stared upon the hilt for a brief moment. Laughter tickled his throat when eyeing the hilt. One of the last things Raymond had said to him was how he believed the weapon to be merely ornamental. Now that he had a good chance to look at it, the old man could see where the paladin was coming from.

"I hoped it would serve him well," Lord Templar sighed. He lifted the longsword from its scabbard and examined the edges of the blade carefully. Other than a few minor nicks, the blade itself was in pristine condition. He returned it to the sheath and began walking towards the mantle. "Not well enough it would seem."

The old man affixed the blade atop its resting place above the fire. He stepped back and allowed a touch of nostalgia to pierce his heart before returning his attention towards Narula.

"Tell me," he carefully started. Lord Templar's eyes fell to the flames once again. "Did he say anything else? About me?"

His heart began to tremble. The old man's patience quickly waned and before he would even listen to her answer, he quickly snuck a glance into her eyes and dared to asked one more thing.

"Or you?"

Lord Nigel knew the ramifications of that specific question. In Raymond's last moments, he had hoped she received some closure on the situation. The night elf's absence was indicative of either one which begged his curiosity to learn the truth. He looked over at her once more and saw Narula retrieving a small scroll and held it sternly between her slender hands.

"The last thing I wished to speak with you about was this," she proclaimed. The night elf stepped forward and courteously handed the rolled parchment to the old man. His interest piqued while slowly unraveling the scroll as Narula continued. "I have studied much of your human's history. One piece in particular called out to me as it did you, it would seem."

Dread immediately pierced Lord Nigel's heart. He poured over the contents of the scroll with trepidation as the night elf spoke.

"It is not my place to judge your decisions or actions. And I am not calling your wisdom into question either," she implored. "However…"

Narula took a deep breath. Her eyes began to quiver. She struggled to maintain her composure. In order to move forward, the night elf mustered the will to look him in the eyes and pour her heart out.

"I never understood why you asked me to make that promise," posed Narula. "It troubled me for ages. I painfully stood by him for years knowing I could only keep him at arm's length all the while begging to learn the wisdom of your request."

The scroll began to tighten in the old man's grip.

"And now," she sternly stated. "I finally know."

"You know," Lord Nigel softly spoke. "I never wanted to be a father. But, things happen and when the duty of kinship fell upon my lap I did not shy away from it."

He stepped away with the parchment still clutched in his powerful grip and let his gaze linger towards the fireplace.

"I did the best I could. In all of my years of negotiating, squabbling, and even assisting in war efforts, there was no greater challenge I've faced than trying raise him proper," admitted the old man. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I never anticipated Raymond's heart to be his strongest quality. His mother is to thank for that, I'm sure."

Lord Nigel took another deep breath. He looked towards night elf with a faint glimmer of regret.

"I know it agonized you to keep away from him," he continued. "As I am sure it pained him. Though he never told me directly, I always knew that no one else held a bigger place in his heart that you."

A thick silenced settled between them. The air was dense and cold. Not even the generous fires burning beside him could warm his heart for his final question was almost too embarrassing to speak and yet, he could think of nothing else he wished to know.

"Before he passed, did he at least admit that to you?" The old man inquired. His eyes shifted slightly as he excruciatingly asked another dire inquiry. "And did you finally tell him as well?"

The night elf remained silent. Her eyes stood firm and Lord Nigel sensed a tinge of resentment quelling beneath her silver eyes.

"I see," he sighed. A single tear welled in the corner of his eye. Before it could grow any further, the old man clutched his face and buried the distressing sight from view. "Forgive me my child. I never wished this burden to bring you such sorrow."

Narula stepped forward and wrapped her slender arms around the frail old man. Lord Nigel shuddered in her tender grip. He was not one to admit it directly but this appeared to easily be his greatest regret yet.

"There is nothing to forgive Lord Templar," she tenderly replied. "Knowing him was a blessing. I thank you for allowing me to be but a humble part of his life."

The night elf held him closely and allowed Lord Templar to relieve his grief upon her. They stood together in silence. Not even a whimper passed through the old man's nostrils. When she was satisfied with her work, Narula carefully broke their embrace.

"I wish I could have done more for him and you my child," he sadly acknowledged.

Guilt continued to plague him. Lord Templar had difficulty looking the night elf in the eyes. Her expression had lightened. A small but noticeable smile had even found its way to her lush lavender lips.

"Perhaps," she coyly started. "There is something that only _you_ can do."

Narula motioned towards the door. A few seconds passed before another guest slowly entered the room. In all of the emotional chaos that ensued, the old man had completely forgotten his maid had mentioned multiple visitors instead of just the one that first appeared before him.

A young elf presented herself to the Lord of Templar Keep. She had smooth platinum blonde hair with a pair of thin pointy ears protruding from each side of her slender head. Faint green eyes stared back at him. She carried a massive broadsword strapped to her waist that almost appeared to be dragging her instead of the other way around. The old man's eyes lit up as he began to recognize the young elf upon closer examination.

"You were one of the pallbearers, yes?" Lord Nigel proclaimed. "Forgive me, I had meant to introduce myself but by the time I was able to pull myself away, you had already vanished."

"This is Lorelei Starstrider," introduced Narula. "She is an acquaintance of Raymond's and the last member to join the Templar Knights."

The old man eyed their newest guest up and down. His eyebrow raised and before he spoke, Lord Nigel let out a deep and powerful sigh.

"Another elf?" The old man enquiringly posed with a smirk gracing his lips. "Raymond certainly had a type, didn't he?"

Lord Nigel sighed softly. He looked into the young elf's sullen green eyes. They appeared as if they had been lost for years and yet, as she stood here before them, were filled with nothing but confidence. The old man respected her determination and strength in coming here today. Despite their faction ties and allegiances, he was more than willing to listen to her request.

"What can I do for you my child?"

"I," the young elf timidly began. She clutched the blade at her waist. It's gave her the strength to look Lord Nigel straight in the eyes with renewed resolve as she continued. "I want to become a paladin; like Rayne and my brother before me."

Lorelei bit her lip. The very mention of those two quaked her heart and almost shattered what little resolve she was able to muster to come here today and beg for assistance.

"I know it may be tough but," she continued. "They helped me find my purpose. I can think of no better way to honor their sacrifices than by following the light that has called out to them and me as well."

The young elf took a step forward. Her head lifted and she took a deep breath and prepared to humble herself entirely before the elder human.

"I have learned there is no one greater to assist me than the one who raised such a gracious young man like Rayne," begged Lorelei. She took a knee before Lord Templar and hung her head below. "Please help me. I'll do whatever it takes."

The old man's eyes widened. He hadn't expected to see a blood elf kneeling before him and begging for his aid but knowing Raymond for who he was, Lord Nigel couldn't have been less surprised. There was indeed something special about the young paladin that was raised within these halls. The old man wasn't one to admit it himself but his tutelage was indeed a large part in how Rayne became the man he was. Narula must have known it as well. The night elf had her own connections with her aunt in the Argent Dawn to assist Lorelei. However, she came here for a specific reason and Lord Templar couldn't have been more grateful.

"It seems my work is cut out for me on this one," he smiled. "Rise my child. There is much to be done. We will first need to get you fitted for a suit of armor. I know you may prefer to don something of a lighter variety but it will also help widen your muscles so that you may properly wield that big sword of yours. Then we can discuss training."

The young elf did as instructed. A smile quickly formed upon her face. Lord Nigel had slipped back into the role of caretaker so graciously it was almost as if it were his natural calling despite his original protests earlier. The old man was ready to get things started without delay. He barely even noticed Narula's presence as she began to take her own leave.

"If you will excuse me, Lord Templar," the night elf bowed.

"You are always welcome in this house my child," beckoned the old man. "No matter where your next journey takes you, know that you have a home within these walls."

Narula only offered a simple smile in response. She walked out of the room without the faintest notion of whether she would ever return to this place. Lord Templar would never blame her. She was certainly putting up a strong front. If Narula had truly cared for Raymond as much as she had proven herself today, she could have been nothing short of devastated with his passing. However, the night elf still found it within her to put others before her own desires. She showed her true strength today. It was high time this elder Lord did the same by continuing the legacy he had unwillingly created instead of the one he fought so hard to protect.

"Come my child," the old man ordered. "Why don't you wait for me in the atrium? I will fetch a smith to begin the measurements and we will call in some trainers to teach you a few things about proper combat. Perhaps even Lena is available. I'm sure she would be more than willing to participate after hearing your story."

Lord Nigel waited until the young elf was completely out of sight. He passed a glance and the scroll clutched in his tightened fist. Anger brimmed within him. He couldn't believe how foolish he was. The old man cursed his stubbornness. If only he had gone with his heart instead of his instincts, then perhaps things would have been truly different. He walked over towards the fire. His emotions took over and he tossed the parchment into the breadth of the flames and watched it turn to cinders.

"Forgive me, my old friend," he winced. The one tear he fought so valiantly to hold back found its way down his cheek as the memories began to crush him. "I've failed you."

 **End of Act III**


	29. Epilogue

_The Raynewood Orphanage_

 _Ashenvale_

The tome closed atop the night elf's lap. All of the knowledge and wisdom bound within this powerful book had been imparted upon the children. She watched them wretch in agony. Tears filled their eyes as they continued to share their contempt and protest over the story that had been told.

"This can't be real!" Nalias begged. The young night elf child clutched onto his fellow brothers Meileath and Fyadren while sharing in uncontrollable weeps. "You're lying!"

"It's okay," begged Kaitlynn while comforting the younger female child beside her. Lysash was frantically blubbering in her arms. The elder child tried to bear her sorrow but couldn't stop her own tears from falling atop the little one's brown hair. She attempted to reassure the young girl as they sat together in a grieving embrace. Whether she was saying these words for Lysash or herself could not be said for certain.

The others continued to sob and convulse where they sat. Not a single detail had been spared. They all believed themselves to be ready. It wasn't until the ending sank in that they finally realized just how foolishly ignorant they truly were.

Narula had feared the worst with sharing this harrowing tale. Her initial trepidations were grossly underestimated. The orphans had come to know and love Rayne as one of their own. He was their light in a world of darkness. Hearing of his tragic sacrifice was just too much for any of them to bear. They had already been forced to deal with the loss of their parents. Listening to the tragic demise of the Templar Knights had nearly broken them entirely.

The only one among them that seemed to keep any semblance of composure was the young draenei Claudis. He was looked upon with high regard by the other children in the orphanage. However, not even his great resolve could silence the pain in his heart. The young draenei stared at the night elf with a pair of thick tears rushing down the sides of his gentle blue face.

"Please, say it isn't true," pleaded Claudis. His stern voice had become meek and frail. "Is Rayne really…?"

The young draenei choked on his own thoughts. He couldn't even begin to speak the question everyone was desperately seeking the answer to. They had all admitted they were ready to hear this story but by their reactions thus far, it couldn't have been further from the truth.

"My child," the night elf tenderly began. She carefully knelt down and reached for Claudis' face and wiped away a tear with her slender thumb. "Do not weep."

All of the children's gazes had fallen upon her. For a brief moment, their tears had stopped. A short smile crept upon Narula's lips. They had displayed quite the resolve in listening to the final heroic tale of the Templar Knights. The night elf knew she was in for a long evening. The only thing Narula had left to offer them were the stoic words that could free even the darkest souls from the brink of despair. She looked upon each and every one of them and prepared to utter the phrase that would slowly begin to lift their spirits as it had become a blessing to her.

The night elf reached over with a single hand and lovingly stroked the young child's rippling black hair before pulling her hand back and tenderly clutching her stomach. Narula's smile immediately widened upon hearing the encroaching footsteps outside their home.

"The light does not abandon its champions."

And then there was a knock at the door.


End file.
